They All Lived Story 19: I Should Tell You
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Sara's a busy State Alchemist with more guy problems than she wants. Aldon's headed up to Fort Briggs for some serious training, with his best friend and his girlfriend. Ethan's finished his last auto-mail surgery. Edward's turning 50! Life continues.
1. Summer '48

**Author's Note: **As mentioned at the beginning of Story 18, this one also focuses more heavily on some major events in the lives of the Elrics, and others, especially the children as they begin to venture out into the world beyond the safety of home.

This story has _six _chapters. It's a bit longer than the last ones! So please make sure you read the whole thing before moving on to the next story. (If you don't see six, it's because I haven't finished updating. If you do, obviously I finished!) ;)

**June 8****th****, 1948 **

Sleeping late in the Elric house was beginning to seem like a lost cause. Sara tried to ignore the sounds of the house around her, but up in her room it was nearly impossible. It didn't help that she was no longer used to them.

It might have been better if it wasn't a Saturday. Downstairs, she heard her parents in the kitchen talking. The radio was on a music station, and she could hear the clink of breakfast dishes coming out of the cabinet. Down the hall she could hear Aldon in the shower, actually_ singing_ as he washed. Ethan shouted something to Aldon about hogging the bathroom and then she heard his feet as he thudded downstairs to use the other bathroom instead. She heard Bounce's feet skittering along behind Ethan as the little dog followed him as usual.

The one bright spot in all of it – the thing Sara really appreciated – was that not a single person had knocked on her door yet this morning. She had dragged in on the midnight train from her latest mission, come home, and crashed in her own bed without seeing a soul, and while she knew they knew she was in there, they hadn't bothered her. Her family understood what kind of work went into being a State Alchemist!

Two years; Sara had been a State Alchemist for a little over two years, and from day one she had been running. No sooner did she have her State license and the rank of Major when she'd been sent out on her first mission. She had been home for less than a week before she went on her second. She was young, unattached, and talented; that made her perfect for the kind of missions her father and uncle had done in their childhood; being sent here and there, wherever an alchemist was needed.

Not that they were overly difficult at first. In fact, the first time she'd been asked to do a mine inspection, she gave her superior officer – she was lucky enough to have now-Colonel Marcus Kane – a look and asked him flat out of this was supposed to be some kind of family tradition. He'd laughed. There had been other resources trips, trips to look at research other alchemists were doing around the country, and trips out to military outposts with higher ranking military officers where her duties would involve making sure regulations were followed in a more traditional assisting position. Those jobs also usually involved her helping make certain everything was shored up and functional. She was good at small, practical alchemy, especially when it came to fixing things; and she didn't find it demeaning to do that kind of work and never complained about it.

Other assignments had been more challenging. A couple had ended up in firefights when she had stumbled upon stolen goods from a military warehouse once, and someone attempting forbidden alchemy another. That one hadn't been pretty; but she had won the fight, coming home with only a minor graze-wound to the shoulder. That had been the first year.

The longest stretch Sara could count that she had been home since her first mission was one three-week stretch, and that had been almost a year ago. So it was no wonder her parents had stopped knocking on her door in the mornings when she got in late. Dad knew the routine, and her mother understood. Her brothers had just gotten used to it, or tired of getting snapped at and minor shocks of alchemy induced static! This time, she had been gone for almost two months, getting notices of the next assignment while still out in the _field_.

They were eating now. Aldon, Ethan, and Dad were quieter and she heard silverware. The smell of bacon, hot sweet rolls, and coffee wafted up through the vent in her floor and Sara finally gave in. Groaning, she rolled out of bed, dragged on an old fluffy blue bathrobe she kept here, and took only enough time to brush her hair out and pull it back in a long loose tail that now fell down past her butt before padding downstairs barefoot.

Her family looked up as she came into the room.

"Coffee?" was the first word out of her mother's mouth.

"Please!" Sara nodded a definite _affirmative._ "Cream, triple sugar."

"Gee, Sis," Aldon chuckled. "I was figuring you'd sleep until noon at least."

"Your melodious caterwauling was too much to resist," Sara retorted as she dropped into her seat and filled her plate. "This is fantastic, Mom," she commented. Traveling on a budget didn't leave much room for quality dining, and it was never _anything_ like good home cooking.

"Your father made breakfast," Winry chuckled. "Thank him."

"Thanks," Sara smiled at her Dad as her Mom handed her coffee. Sara took a long sip of the hot liquid.

"Welcome home, Sara," Ed smiled. "What time did you get in?"

"About one," Sara sighed. "And the guys next to me on the train were completely smashed, so I couldn't get any sleep on the ride in."

"That's too bad," Winry scowled. "I hate inconsiderate travelers."

"What were you doing this time, Sara?" Ethan asked curiously.

"Avalanche relief," Sara sighed, still sipping her coffee. "Up between North City and Fort Briggs. Spent two weeks helping rebuild and shore up the place, clear out their water supply, lots of things." It had been one of the more draining assignments she'd had –emotionally as well as physically. Some things could only be done by hand, but watching the injured and rescued deal with their losses was trying. She had spent a lot of time with some of the kids that had been orphaned.

Her father seemed to read her thoughts and feelings without having to try. He was still good at that though; perhaps more given they were now talking about more common ground. "Everything's done up there then?"

Sara nodded. "Except for healing and re-establishing business and such, yes. The military's work is done there for now." She finished the coffee and started in on breakfast, ravenous now that she was a little more alert. Food hadn't been scarce, but it had been rationed, and she'd been doing a lot of hard labor. On the train home she had tried to sleep more than anything else and hadn't really been thinking about food. She kept thinking about the people they had helped, and the ones they had failed to save.

"That's all anyone can rightfully ask or expect," Ed replied with a nod. "Those people will all remember what you did for them though, not what you couldn't have fixed."

"I know," Sara smiled at him. "Believe it or not, I listened to your lessons."

"Maybe too well," Ed teased.

The table dissolved into general conversation that Sara tried to follow but, as often happened, she felt at least three steps behind, so she ate and listened. It still surprised her every time she came home that Aldon was three inches taller than Dad, he stood even with Roy Mustang! Of course, Maes Mustang was an inch taller than _his_ father. Somewhere while she'd been gone, her oldest of her younger brothers had turned into a man without her noticing; still a teenager, but no kid. Heck, Aldon was going to be eighteen in a couple of months. He and Ollie Larson, their next door neighbor, had been talking for months about going up to North City, maybe even to Fort Briggs as civilian workers, to learn from the brilliant mechanics and engineers who worked up there. There were a lot of opportunities for creative minds when it came to working in the frigid north.

Ethan, sitting across from her, was always the most notable difference for marking the passage of time. While her parents hardly seemed to age, Ethan was growing in spurts, in maturation as well as physically. At ten, he was only a couple of inches shorter than Sara and still growing. Lean built, but it was obvious that he and Dad had been working hard on his training. She couldn't wait to see how much his alchemy had improved. Ethan was always eager to show her what he had picked up, and they still did alchemy together whenever she was home. Often, Maes would come over and they would all work together, like they had when she and Maes were younger.

"So you're definitely going," Winry said at one point, breaking Sara out of her reverie to realize she was talking to Aldon, who was reloading his plate.

Aldon nodded. "I got the confirmation letter yesterday, so did Ollie. The head engineer at Briggs said they'd be willing to take us on as apprentices, at least on a probationary basis; see how we did and go from there. He seemed pleased with what we know so far." He shrugged and bit into a sweet roll. "They want us up there by the first of August."

"What does Cassandra think about this?" Ed asked, mentioning Aldon's girlfriend of almost a year. Sara had met her a couple of times; nice enough girl, though she had little in common with her. Cassie– as she was usually called – was an easy going, artistic kind of girl without a violent bone in her body; slender, almost delicate really, with dark brown hair and bright green eyes. She had a dancer's almost non-existent form, though she had been volunteering at the hospital for several years and learning nursing.

Aldon grinned broadly. "She said she'd been thinking about doing some more rugged landscape paintings."

"So she's going with you?" Winry's expression was suddenly much more focused; her tone suspicious.

Sara tried not to chuckle. Much as she knew her parents liked Cassie in general, a lot of Aldon's common sense seemed to go out the window when it came to the girl. Though she had to admit it was amusing watching her normally logical brother so smitten; they were a pretty cute pair really.

"Yeah," Aldon replied, though he blushed. "At least, we've been talking about it."

"She'd probably freeze to death," Ethan quipped around a mouthful of bacon. "She's so skinny!"

Aldon snorted. "As if Lia isn't? _Your_ girlfriend's a twig."

"She's not my_ girlfriend,_" Ethan replied hotly, his face going red; with annoyance Sara thought. Though she wondered how much of the protest was feigned, or if he really felt that way. "We're just friends; that's all."

"Sure you are," Aldon smirked. "That's why you follow her around like a puppy and she's always over right?"

"We're studying!" Ethan glared at him.

"That's enough boys," Winry replied calmly sipping her coffee. "I'm sure you have more productive and pleasant things to quarrel about at the breakfast table; at least that Sara might be interested in hearing about."

Sara smirked then. "Oh it's okay, Mom. They just make me feel more at home." It wouldn't be morning with her family if her brothers – or she and them – weren't getting on each other about _something_. At least it was usually good natured. They were too close, even now, to really be mean to each other; and no one wanted to cross Mom or Dad!

"Actually," Ed commented. "That was something we wanted to discuss with you."

"My brothers' fighting?" Sara asked, grinning.

"Smart mouth," Ed chuckled.

Winry just shook her head. "We were wondering if you'd like a little more privacy," she jumped into the conversation. "You're always welcome to keep your room of course, this is home, but if you wanted it the apartment over the shop's available. Laurence got married and moved out last month." Laurence was one of Winry's newer apprentices.

"The apartment? Really?" Sara was momentarily floored. Part of her wanted to feel bad about getting out of her folks place, but there was another part that was thrilled at the idea of having a place to call her own, and one that was still kind of_ home._ "That would be great!"

"You can move in as soon as you like then," Winry chuckled. "I'm sure your brothers will be more than happy to help you move your things." The last was said with a warning look, as if daring them to say otherwise.

Aldon shrugged. "Sure!" he grinned wickedly. "My workshop in the cellar's full to overflowing, I could use the extra workspace."

"No fair," Ethan countered. "We need a better alchemy workshop at home! Then Dad and I won't have to use the living room anymore."

"Now there's an idea," Winry said, shaking her head. "We'll decide that later you vultures. You can both spend the next couple of days helping Sara get her stuff moved, on _her_ schedule."

"Do you know how long you'll be in town this time?" Ed asked Sara.

Sara shook her head. "Not yet. I need to turn in my final report this morning and check in, but Colonel Kane promised me a little R&R after this last run. If he doesn't make good on that promise we'll be having words!"

"I'm sure Marcus will deliver then," Ed smiled. "You're no good to them if they break you too fast." There was a wry twist to his tone, and Sara knew why. _They_ included him at this point, and he remembered his own early years rather vividly. She had gotten even more stories than she knew he had – and maybe than he had realized – from swapping tales about her missions in the last couple of years.

"Fortunate that I don't break easily," Sara chuckled, finishing off her own breakfast and feeling a little more alert, and definitely more energized from the family interaction. "I should get a shower and get moving. Thanks for breakfast." She got up and headed back upstairs, knowing that she had plenty of hot water – and clean laundry – already waiting. Most days, it was nice to be home!

* * *

Reporting in to Kane was never much of a hassle, which Sara appreciated. The Sky Fire Alchemist never treated her like a kid. He gave her the respect she was due for her hard work, but he was loose enough to joke around. Fortunately, he could take it as well as he could dish it out! She really enjoyed working under him most of the time.

Much as Sara made use of her distinctive appearance in the field when she wanted to be easily identified, it was only for particular occasions that she actually wore the coat her father had given her onto the grounds of military HQ. She had tried these past two years to establish her reputation as a State Alchemist, as Major Sara Elric, without relying on the name of her father to get her anywhere. Much as she loved him, and was personally proud when she heard her name referenced with her father's in a positive way, she wasn't _him _and she wanted her reputation and record to be her own. So when she had to report in officially but didn't really want to stand out she came in uniform.

So she looked nice and official today as she saluted Colonel Kane across his desk and handed him the written report she had finished up after arriving at HQ about an hour before. "The report on the rescue efforts in the village of Kolten."

Kane flipped it open and looked through it briefly. "Well done," he said. "I'll make sure this gets on up the chain as needed." Then he smiled. "I actually don't have anything for you on my desk at the moment, so enjoy a little down time while you're in Central okay?"

Sara smiled. "Yes, Sir."

"Don't know if anyone's mentioned," Kane commented as if just remembering himself. "There's a Dinner in a couple of weeks in honor of some law that just passed the Assembly about regulating road traffic or some such. No major dignitaries other than the usual diplomats, but," he shrugged. "You know how it is."

Sara did indeed. "Thanks for the warning," she chuckled. "Anything else you need from me, Kane?"

"Not today," he shook his head. "Consider this your orders to get a little R&R and enjoy yourself for a while. You know I'll call if you're needed."

"Right." Sara chuckled, saluted one more time, and headed back out of the office. Well, that had been quick enough. She wasn't quite ready to leave HQ though. It was only an hour or so until most of the folks she wanted to see broke for lunch, and she was hoping to catch up at least long enough to make plans. Also, knowing there was going to be one of_ those_ events coming – she knew she didn't technically have to go but she sort of felt obligated – she wanted to catch up with her usual best-friend date!

Sara took up the time by checking to see if there was anything official she needed to look at on her desk – the one that was almost always empty – and found nothing, as usual. She filed her own copy of her report in the one drawer she had and caught up on general gossip until lunch, then she headed up to Breda's offices and stuck her head in. Right on time it seemed.

"Welcome back, Sara," Kain Feury smiled and nodded politely as he ducked out past her.

There was a chorus of general greetings, "Hey Elric!" "What's up Twilight?" and the like from most of the younger staff, who knew her well enough after all her time spent running around HQ over the years. They filed out past her for the most part.

The one she wanted, of course, was the one who looked up, adjusted his glasses, and grinned broadly. "Sara! When did you get in?"

"Late last night," she chuckled. "You have time to catch up with a friend, or were you planning to work through lunch?"

"The thought had occurred to me," Franz teased, putting down his pen and getting up. It was then that Sara noticed an unfamiliar star.

"You didn't tell me you'd made First Lieutenant!" she mock-glared at him.

"You weren't here to tell," Franz countered, still smiling. "They keep you hopping don't they? Let's go."

The Mess Hall was as crowded as always, and the food as semi-appetizing and mostly-edible as usual. Sara and Franz swapped stories for nearly an hour, catching up on what was going on at HQ, with people they knew, and any word from their friends at Eastern Command.

"I stopped by there a few weeks back," Sara replied. "Lina says hi. So does everyone else of course," she shrugged. "Bors is up to his neck in girl trouble, as usual."

"Someday he's going to get into something he can't get out of," Franz sighed.

"Speaking of things we can't get out of," Sara laughed. "You're going to this dinner coming up right?"

Franz paused mid-bite, then nodded, not talking with his mouthful; a rare gentleman in the military!

"The usual survival plan then?" Sara suggested, grinning. They pretty much always went together; it saved them both from awkward social moments, and it was more fun that way anyway. It wasn't a_ date_ really, but it was better than going alone.

"I'd love to," Franz replied with an apologetic shake of his head. "But I've already asked someone else."

"What?" Sara was taken a little aback for a moment. That had never happened before. "Or rather, who?" she asked curiously.

Franz smiled. "Her name is Gina. We've been seeing each other for about a month, so it seemed natural." From the sounds of his voice, Sara could tell this wasn't one of those short term things so many guys in the military had; not necessarily madly truly in love or anything, but a definite infatuation.

"Well sure," Sara smiled immediately, stuffing her disappointment down so hard it was probably somewhere in her socks. "Of course you should. That's great. Sorry, I wouldn't have asked if I'd known."

"No need to apologize," Franz chuckled. "There was no reason you would have after two months in the field right? I hate to disappoint you though."

"It's okay," Sara shrugged. Okay no, it really wasn't, but Franz was her friend, not a romantic interest, much as she had daydreamed about _that._ She wasn't going to over-react; she was too mature. Really. "You should have fun with a real date," she chuckled, feigning cheerfulness.

"Thanks, Sara," Franz smiled. "It's nice to have a friend so understanding! So many guys I know have female friends who get uppity of they actually have a real date."

"I'll bet that's a real pain," Sara replied, wishing she could sink into the floor. Suddenly, her time off seemed a little less exciting. Of course they could still spend time together, and they would, but she had been hoping to_ finally_ tell him how she felt! There was no way she would do that when Franz was just starting to date someone else and was obviously very happy.

Sara would just go stag to the dinner. It wouldn't be the first time, and probably not the last. She knew most of the people at these things so she was sure she'd have a good time anyway. Sara figured she would convince herself eventually.

**June 11****th****, 1948**

"Just put that box by the couch," Sara told her father as she set hers down on the kitchen counter. It really hadn't taken long to box everything she owned and, over the past few days with her brothers' help she had gotten almost everything moved. Tonight though, her father had volunteered to help with the last few things. He had even_ insisted _on stocking the fridge and pantry. "I'm not sure there's room in here for any more stuff," she chuckled as she started putting canned and dry goods in the pantry. "Doesn't it seem like a bit much for one person, Dad? Especially when I have no idea how long I'll even be in town."

"You'll probably have guests over," Ed pointed out as he joined her. "And knowing your friends, you'll want something to feed them! Besides," he chuckled. "You're looking a little underfed yourself."

Sara rolled her eyes, but she shrugged. "Everything was rationed on the last mission," she replied. "So many hungry people and so little getting in in the way of supplies until we got the roads cleared too. It's a lot of work."

"Hey, did I say it wasn't?" Her father shook his head and started helping her unload. "Believe me, I understand. Just remember," he grinned as he looked sideways toward her. "I know you too."

Sara half-smirked at him and looked at the food again. He had a point. She and her brothers ate _almost _as much as their father did when they were active. The amount of food in her parents' pantry was massive in comparison. "So you're really just trying to make sure I don't starve to death," she quipped.

"Pretty much," Ed laughed, though his smile was softer. "How are you really doing, kid?"

He didn't say anything more specific, but Sara knew what he meant at once. "It's tough," she admitted, leaning back against the counter. "I mean, I heard all your stories, but I never really appreciated just how much all this constantly going could really take out of you."

"Al used to get mad at me," Ed smiled. "I'd get sick, and I'd still be trying to get whatever we were doing finished. He practically had to tie me down to get me to take a break and rest."

"So really, nothing has changed," Sara teased.

"Nope," he agreed with a laugh and a shrug. "But he's always right, him and Winry both, at knowing when I'm pushing my limits, even when I'm too stubborn to admit it."

His smile told Sara well enough that he was just doing the same thing for her, because he loved her. She sighed and smiled back. "Thanks, Dad. Don't worry about me though. All I plan to do until Marcus calls me up with more work is take it easy and enjoy myself. At the moment, sleep tops that list hands down!"

"I noticed," Ed replied, referring to the fact that she hadn't crawled out of bed until breakfast once since she got home. Ed still got up early most days, at the time they both used to for morning work outs. "But don't feel bad about it. In our line of work, sleep's important!"

"Is that the _savvy State Alchemist_ line of work, or the dog of the military line?" Sara quipped and started unloading things again, putting the last couple of items away.

"Both," Ed replied just as glibly. "It's too easy to run yourself ragged, and push too hard when there's work that needs doing and you know you're the one who should be doing it. But it's not always easy; especially not when we get involved in people's lives."

Sara nodded somberly. "This last one was tough," she admitted softly. "Not physically. Well, that too, it was a lot of labor but…it's hard to watch so many people lose everything that have, even families, and know that I get to come back to this cushy life in Central." She gestured around the small apartment which, at one time, she would never have considered much at all. Now though, her family home seemed almost a palace compared to what some people had, especially when they had lost everything. Sara always had somewhere to go home, where there would be family and a warm cooked meal and a soft bed. "There were so many kids orphaned," she added.

"So I heard," Ed replied. "I read the report." Well, that made sense; he was up in Breda's office half the time after all. He and Roy Mustang read a lot of the reports that came in from alchemists in the field. "Breda even cried."

"You're kidding," Sara commented giving him an odd look. "Why? My writing wasn't that bad was it?" she half-joked.

"No," Ed shook his head, and smiled. "He's just been kind of sensitive to the subject lately. He and Nancy have apparently been thinking about adopting."

"President Breda wants kids?" Well, Sara guessed she couldn't really see a reason why not, but the man – kind of like Jean Havoc – had been a bachelor for most of Sara's life. She'd just kind of figured if they had wanted kids they'd have settled down earlier. Only more recently had she begun to really realize what _career officer _could really entail.

"It's a little late to do it the old fashioned way," Ed shrugged, sounding clearly sympathetic.

Sara nodded. Then she had an idea. "Well, maybe I'm being presumptuous," she said as the thought formed into something more solid. She went into the living room and opened a box. Recently packed, it was the one with most of the things she carried when she traveled. She heard her father's footsteps behind her as she stood up and turned, offering him a slightly bent photo. "Show him this one for me?" It was of her and two of the kids she had met up there: a little redheaded girl and a strawberry blond infant. "Charisa's three, and her little brother Niam's only eight months old. Their parents both died in the landslide and they don't have any other living family. I think…I think that they might be a good fit."

Sara watched her father's pained expression as he took the picture and looked down at the two little kids in it. He looked like he might cry himself. "I will," was all he said in reply. He put the photo in his pocket. "So, is that everything?"

"Yep," Sara nodded looking around, glad for the change of topic. She was getting misty-eyed! "Looks like I'm all moved. Though," she admitted, looking at him. "It feels kind of strange to actually move out, even though this place is almost as much home to me, and I know that I could go downstairs most of the time and catch Mom, or maybe Aldon…at least until he leaves." That was just as strange, to consider her little brother going all the way up to Briggs within a month and a half! And taking his girlfriend too.

"You'll get used to it," Ed put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a short squeeze. "And there will always be room for you at the house too, you know that, and I'm always available when you want to talk. It can be difficult to find people who understand what we do and what it's really like."

Sara almost blurted out to him right there her insecurities and her disappointment in regards to Franz, but she didn't. That was something she could deal with on her own; not worth babbling about to her Dad. Especially not when the two men crossed paths regularly and were actually on reasonably friendly terms now. "Thanks, Dad. I'll take you up on that sometime."

**June 23****rd****, 1948**

The State Dinner – Sara was so glad they only happened a few times a year, and she had missed most of them for the last two – was a smaller affair than some she had attended, mostly Amestrians, which was kind of nice. Much as Sara enjoyed meeting new people, sometimes it was nice to deal with mostly familiar faces. Especially tonight, when she hadn't brought someone pre-planned for conversation.

Sara had dressed in her favorite – okay, so it was one of only two that she owned – gowns, noting with some consternation that it was a little loose on her. Her father had this habit of being right sometimes that she found annoying and amusing at the same time given how often Mom caught him in the wrong. Still, it looked good, and she felt pretty good. If nothing else, it was a change of pace.

She chatted with several friends, sipped a glass of wine, and was actually enjoying herself until she caught sight of Franz Heimler and his new girlfriend. She was actually curious to get a look at the girl. Gina was everything Sara had privately, however vindictive it seemed in her head, hoped she _wasn't._ She was tall, almost the same height as Franz, willowy aside from a rather nicely proportioned chest, with hair that was nearly jet-black and fell in soft ringlets, ending just below the shoulders. Beautiful, elegant, and graceful; Sara felt like a duck.

Sara spent a good bit of the evening avoiding them, but trying not to seem like it. Franz introduced them, and she smiled and said hello and was her usual mostly-pleasant self, but afterwards she just tried to _not be_ where ever they were. It wasn't too difficult since they talked quietly amongst themselves quite a bit. No, Franz was clearly smitten, and she didn't want to ruin his good time or his relationship. Gina seemed nice enough.

"Good evening, Sara," a female voice said from behind her, and Sara turned to find herself looking at Nancy Breda, who was smiling at her. "I'm so glad you could attend this evening."

"Thank you, Mrs. Breda," Sara smiled politely, a little flustered, but pleased too. She was curious though as to why she was getting singled out tonight given the swarms of people who obviously wanted the woman's attention. Or perhaps that _was _why.

"I just wanted to thank you in person," Nancy smiled warmly.

"Thank me?" Sara tried not to scowl, but she was confused.

Nancy chuckled. "For the photograph. Edward gave it to Heymans, and he was enraptured at once. He wants to go up and meet those sweet children as soon as possible. He'd have harried off up there immediately if we could have been up there and back in time for this." She gestured to the room, indicating the event.

Sara understood then, and her mood brightened. "You're welcome, Ma'am. Charisa and Niam are darling little kids. I hated to leave them, really." Charisa had clung to her for hours at a time when Sara hadn't made her let go, and Niam had always quieted down in her arms.

"The travel arrangements have already been made," Nancy smiled and nodded. "I'm as excited to meet them as my husband is. Well," she sighed. "I should move on. The vultures are circling."

Sara managed not to giggle too loudly. "So they are. Have a lovely evening, Mrs. Breda."

That conversation was the high point of the evening. It wasn't even that late when Sara's mood turned downward again. Dinner over and the primary mingling completed, the almost obligatory dancing began, and she had to watch Franz and Gina dance almost _every_ dance together. Sara probably could have cut in and danced with her friend, but for some reason the idea made her uncomfortable so she resolved herself to watching, and took a couple of turns with other friends – both soldiers she happened to know – and then stood off to the side.

"Hey, Twilight, care to dance?" Maes Mustang chuckled as he joined her.

"Well, good evening, Firebrand." Sara's mouth quirked into a small wry smile. Maes had passed the State Exam just that March. The name suited him, she thought, even in its irony. Much of a flirt as Maes was, he wasn't really much of a troublemaker unless you were the guy whose girlfriend was swooning over the Firebrand Alchemist! "Sure," she set down her glass. "Why not?"

"Gee thanks for the favor," Maes smirked as he took her hand and they moved out into the dance floor. "You could at least act like you're having fun."

"What makes you think I'm not?" Sara asked, frowning slightly. "I just haven't felt like dancing much. It's been a pretty exhausting couple of months."

"So I heard," Maes replied, spinning her as they danced. It was a fairly slow number, so conversation wasn't difficult. Behind him, Sara caught a glimpse of Franz and Gina, and quickly refocused her attention on her dance partner's face. "You're not handling it well you know," he commented after a couple of minutes.

Sara gave him a confused scowl. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Maes quipped wryly, "That I can almost see the jealousy steaming out your ears.

Sara's face went red. He was talking about Franz! "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't try and pull that with me, Elric," Maes rolled his eyes. "I know you remember? You like Franz Heimler, it's not like it's a surprise."

"And just how do you know that?" The last thing Sara needed was Maes sticking his nose in her private business. How had he figured it out anyway?

"It's pretty hard to miss," Maes snorted. "You don't have the right to be mad you know. It's not like you ever told him you were interested in him right?"

"We're supposed to be dancing," Sara replied, dodging the question. Of course she hadn't, but it wasn't any of _Maes'_ damned business! They were friends, of course, but that didn't give him a right to the thoughts she hadn't even shared with Aldon, or her parents, or anyone else.

"We are," Maes countered, spinning to make the point. "If you had said something, you'd either be the one over there dancing with him, or having a better time instead of standing alone drinking wine all evening."

"I wasn't just-"

"You've already had two glasses, Sara," Maes cut her off, and met her fuming gaze evenly. Damn he was infuriating tonight! "Besides, it's not fair to be interested in someone and _not _tell them and still expect them to notice, which you seem to."

"What would you know about it, Maes?" She tried to pull away, but his arm firm on her back, the other hand in his, made it impossible for the moment without causing a public scene. This was too much! She wasn't ready to talk about it yet, not with anyone!

"I know I'm getting sick of watching you moon after this guy and not do anything about it!" he replied, his tone actually getting a little softer. "You're not the indecisive type."

"And you're so_ decisive_. You've got a new girl every time I turn around," Sara retorted irritably. As if he was one to talk! "Never anything serious at all."

"You want to know why?" Maes' expression darkened; a deep V forming between his eyes. "Because for years_ I've_ been waiting for the same damned thing; waiting for you to make a decision and either tell Franz you like him or give up."

Sara sighed. "And what does it matter to you?" Why the heck did Maes care about her stupid little crush anyway?

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. "You are so dense sometimes, Sara, you know that?" Maes frowned. His voice grew softer, a little more plaintive as he looked into her eyes. They had slowed to a stop with the end of the song. "I like you,_ a lot._ I have for a long time now, but how do you say that to someone who treats you like a best friend, almost like a brother, and is obviously interested in someone else?"

His words hit her with surprising force. So simple and yet…Maes liked her? It was a revelation she wasn't prepared for. "How long?" she asked, staring up at him.

Maes looked more than a little embarrassed. "Years," he admitted softly. "We've always been so close and it just kind of happened."

Years. He'd been interested in her for years and never said anything? "And you're just telling me this _now_?" She stared at him. "Great timing too," she replied, the words more biting than she'd intended. "Telling me I'm being stupid for mooning over someone without saying something and you've been doing the _same damn thing!_"

There was a flash of hurt anger in Maes' eyes. "I'm trying to remedy that!"

"You're not here alone tonight," Sara reminded him, a bitter sharpness in her words. She knew for a fact Maes had brought a date tonight. She'd seen him flirting with other girls too. "So why should I take you seriously?"

"Damn it, Sara!" Maes snapped. "I told you why."

"Well sometimes actions speak louder than words, Maes," Sara pulled back from him and stalked off the dance floor, fuming and hurt. What the hell was he up to? Was this some stupid game?

"Sara wait!" He called after her, but she kept walking.

So much for a good night. How dare Maes even try and tell her that her staying out of Franz's way was unfair to Franz, and here he was trying to insist that _he _was interested? Well, maybe he was, but if so, he damned well could have said something earlier! How was she supposed to trust that he wasn't just trying to get Franz out of the way either? Tears burned in her eyes.

"Damn it, Elric!"

She squeaked as Maes had the audacity to actually grab her arm and spin her around. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Not letting you walk away without finishing this!" He countered, and Sara was sure she'd never seen him so angry. "You want to know why I didn't say anything _before_? Two words: Mars Leighton. You had a _boyfriend_! What was I supposed to do? Get in the way? Then as soon as he was gone and I thought I had a shot, you're all moon-eyed over this Officer and you're a State Alchemist and I'm still a damned kid!" He was shouting now. "I've been patient, damn it. Waiting, hoping, but you're one of the most _frustrating_ women I know! I thought I was doing the right thing staying out of the way, but you totally didn't take any of the chances you had to tell him how _you_ felt. What was I supposed to do, wait the rest of my life?"

Sara's head was spinning, and her temper was frayed. She yanked her arm out of Maes' grip; it took two tries. "Well this wasn't exactly the most opportune moment," she glared up at him through a teary haze that just made her feel stupid and made her madder. "We're friends. You of all people had the right to say something. No, hell, you _should have_ said something earlier!" she shouted and spun on her heel again. Maes tried to grab her again but she eluded his hand. "Don't touch me, Mustang!" she snapped as she headed for the door as fast as she dared. This party was _over_ as far as she was concerned.

* * *

Edward was talking with Alphonse and Elicia when he heard shouting. He turned around in time to see what appeared to be the last few seconds of a very heated fight. His eyes widened as he watched Sara storm out of the building, and a surprisingly irate Maes Mustang standing stunned, then stalk off in another direction entirely. There was a side exit that way, Ed remembered. "Damn," he said softly.

"That can't have been good," Al agreed, looking worried.

Ed looked around, but didn't see Roy in the immediate vicinity. "I'm going to find Roy," he said. "Excuse me."

"Of course," Elicia replied as Ed slipped away from them and made his way through the crowds. There had been a long quiet moment at the end, but the murmur of conversation picked up again, though Ed knew the buzz – a lot of them would want to know what had happened.

Roy was in the next room, another large one, talking with a couple of assemblymen and looking rather bored.

"Mustang," Ed interrupted without preamble. "We need to talk."

Roy glanced over at him and looked irritated, then sighed and excused himself from his conversation. "What is it?" He asked when Ed pulled him off to the side, though he sounded much less annoyed now that he wasn't stuck in the other conversation.

"Meltdown," Ed replied seriously. "You'd better have a talk with Maes. He and Sara just had a major blow-up in the ballroom."

The shock on Roy's face matched how Ed felt. "What happened?"

Ed shrugged. "I only heard the last of it, but my guess is he played his hand, and badly."

"Hell," Roy muttered. They both knew about Maes' crush on Ed's daughter; had for years. Since Sara had never showed any interest in response, Ed knew that Roy hadn't expected this kind of scene any more than he had. "I'll go find him." Roy headed off as Ed gestured in the direction he'd gone, then Ed went back into the ballroom to find Winry. Chasing Sara down when she was that steamed was not a good idea. All it would end up in was another argument, and Ed didn't want to have to be the responsible one keeping his temper. He would drop by her place in the morning and check on her.

* * *

Roy was more worried than he wanted to admit when he couldn't find Maes anywhere in the building. If it had been Roy, even after an argument he'd probably have had a glass of wine, calmed down, and gone back to his date – when he was younger of course – but the girl Maes had come with had been looking more than a little contrite when Roy spotted her first, and was dancing with some Lieutenant when he left the building and headed for the house, hoping his son had enough sense to at least go home, since he obviously wasn't capable of keeping a personal issue private!

He stifled his own frustrations as he made his way home. He hoped Ed thought to inform Riza of what had happened. Roy hadn't taken the time to find her in his search for their son. When he got home, there was a light on in Maes' room. He could see that from outside. Feeling mildly relieved, though still more than a little pissed, Roy made his way inside and upstairs.

Really, he was concerned. Maes was normally a mature, responsible young man; he'd never been a lick of trouble growing up – thanks to Riza, Roy thought. He was smart, talented, handsome – a lot like Roy – but usually much more patient. He was also a little more emotionally sensitive; a luxury Roy had not allowed himself to indulge in since before the Ishbal Massacre. Whether that was a flaw on Roy's part, or on Maes', he really wasn't sure.

Roy knocked on Maes' door. "You in there?" he asked.

"Go away, Dad," a muffled reply came from inside.

"Let me in, Maes," Roy sighed. Annoyed as he was, he wasn't here to pick a fight. He just wanted to know what the hell had happened!

"No."

Stupid, stubborn… "Can we talk?"

"Request denied, General."

This was getting nowhere fast. Riza really was better at this than he was; he was beginning to wish Ed had found her_ first._ He sighed and went back downstairs.

* * *

Sara felt mildly better after a hot shower and changing out of formals into loose dark gray cotton pants and a lighter gray cut-off tank she often wore around the house, or when she was working out at home. She had walked back to the apartment and slammed the door, fuming the whole time about the impertinence and _audacity _of Maes Mustang! Now, she just felt drained. Could tonight have been worse? Franz with a girlfriend, Maes – of all people – professing interest! That was just too weird, and it made her feel funny. Not in a good way either. She was mad at him for the bad timing, for not telling her earlier, but what bugged her most was that she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about his declaration. Sara didn't feel flattered, or amused, or anything other than frustrated and confused.

Well, Sara decided, she was just going to have to put it out of her mind for a while and calm down, or she'd never get to sleep tonight. She put on water for tea, grabbed a book to distract her, and dropped down on the couch. No sooner had she opened the cover when there was a knock at the door.

Who could that be? Sara sighed and contemplated not answering it. It was probably her Dad, or maybe Mom. She stiffened at the idea that maybe Maes had followed her home and wanted to talk. They were friends – or at least, they had been, she wasn't sure where this put them right now – but right now she really wasn't sure how to respond to him.

The knock came again. It didn't sound like either of her parents, or Maes for that matter. Sara got up and went to the door and opened it, her eyes going wide when she saw who was actually standing at the top of her stairs. "Mars?"

Mars Leighton grinned at her. Even though his hair was a little longer, and he had at least a day's growth of scruff on his chin, and he looked a little heavier than she remembered, she would_ never _mistake that face. "Hey, Sara. Surprise!"

"I'll say," Sara replied, stunned, but she relaxed a little. At least it was a friendly face, and not someone she'd have to have serious conversation with. "What are you doing in town?"

"Working technically," Mars laughed as she stepped out of the way and let him in. He was wearing jeans, a red shirt and a black jacket. "One of my professors offered me a bit of summer work if I came on this trip with him. Of course I jumped at the opportunity," he grinned and grabbed her in an impulsive hug. "When I found out we'd be coming through Central that just made it better. I'm so glad you're here! I called your house to see if you were home, and Aldon said you'd gotten your own space. Admittedly, I figured I'd be waiting for you when he said you were at some state function tonight."

"It wasn't much fun," Sara forced herself to sound casual as she hugged him back, though she kept it short. After earlier, she just wasn't really in the mood for close contact. She stepped back, still smiling though. This evening wasn't Mars' fault. The timing was just bad in general. "You want tea?" she offered as the pot began to whistle.

"That'd be great," Mars chuckled as he sat down on the couch. "This is a nice little set-up," he complimented as Sara went into the kitchen and poured them both cups of tea, then added sugar to both – she remembered how Mars liked his.

"Thanks to my parents," Sara chuckled, coming back in and handing him a cup. "It's nice to have some real privacy, and it's so much closer to HQ than the house." The walk took about a quarter of the time, and that gave her time in the morning to do other things without feeling rushed. She had no need for a car, which she couldn't afford anyway. "So what _have_ you been up to Mars," she asked as she sat down next to him. "You haven't written me in months," she pointed out with a smirk.

Mars had the good grace to look embarrassed. "I've been kind of distracted," he admitted. "Classes were a bear this last semester, and life got kind of busy. You know how it is."

"I do," Sara nodded. She didn't write that often either, but at least she _did_. It was usually a pleasant surprise if she came home to find a letter from Mars in her mailbox anymore. It was sweet of him to drop in like this though. "This is the longest I've been home in a while. Keeping up with much of anyone and anything is pretty difficult when I never see them." She set her tea down on the table.

Something must have tipped him off that she was down - of course, Mars had always been pretty good at reading her moods – because he gave her a sympathetic smile. "Sounds pretty lonely." His hand went to her chin, tilting it up gently so she was looking into his dark eyes. That familiar gaze was a friendly, non-threatening expression. She knew where she stood with Mars.

"It is," she replied softly.

"Then maybe I can fix that," Mars tone was surprisingly soft and, before she could think, he pressed his lips to hers.

Sara hesitated momentarily, but the familiar warmth, the safe haven of his arms as he pulled her in closer were a tempting distraction from the confusion and chaos that still raged in her mind and the logical part of her brain telling her that this was_ not_ the right move. She ignored it and kissed him back. They weren't a couple anymore, they hadn't been in three years, but that didn't mean she _couldn't _kiss him!

Apparently her willingness was the response Mars had been hoping for, and Sara gave in to the need for contact with someone who didn't confuse her! It was just an innocent kiss at first, though she didn't complain when it deepened, and he held her firmly against him as he leaned back against the edge of the couch, Sara leaning into his chest. It wasn't the same as the last time they had kissed – which was the last time she had been kissed at all. Mars was a little more aggressive, more heated, but it was a refreshing and not unpleasant change.

Sara wrapped her arms around his neck, not objecting as his hands slid lightly down her back. His smell was different too; a more Cretan scent, and taste; a little exotic.

One of his hands rubbed the small of her back, then slipped down to her waist, and then under the band of her sweats. They slipped a little lower, and his fingers nudged the hem of her underwear down.

The warning alarm went off in Sara's mind like a siren! She jerked upright, breaking the kiss and leaping to her feet, staring down at Mars, the mix of confusion and fury that had surged through her clear on her face based on how quickly his expression went from startled to fear. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" What was he _thinking?_

Mars' expression went from fearful to angry consternation as he sat up. "I didn't hear you complaining," he frowned.

"You didn't exactly give me any warning!" Sara yelled at him. _Mars_ of all people? She'd thought better of him. "And since when do you have the right, Mars Leighton, to make that kind of assumption about _my _intentions? We're not even dating. That was over three years ago, on your agreement!"

"So why did you kiss me?" Mars asked, standing up and forcing her to look up at him if she wanted to keep yelling. It just made her madder.

"Because," ah hell! Tears were coming to her eyes again. She hated that. The words came out in a torrent. "Because I…I'm confused, and hurt, and mad, and I've had the worst night of my life, and then you were here and I was thinking here, _here _is someone I can trust, who isn't going to mess with my head… and it felt good, and familiar, and nice and then… then you have the audacity to think that just because I'm willing to kiss you means I'm going to let you into my_ bed_?" She felt hysterical, over-whelmed, and more than seriously disappointed in the boy she used to like. Mars would _never_ have tried something like that when he left. "You've changed. You're not who I thought you were, and you've just succeeded in completely ruining what was already a miserable night, thank you so _very_ much!" She shoved him hard with both hands, and was actually startled when he moved back a step. "What kind of a whore do you think I am?"

Apparently, Mars was startled too. His eyes were wide as he took a couple of steps backwards. "It wasn't like that…." He stammered. "I just, thought maybe we could, you know, try again. I've missed you, Sara."

This was _not_ happening. Really, it was too much. Was this all some kind of cosmic joke? Franz, then Maes, and now Mars? Sara shook her head. "You've been in Pylos, and you'll be going back there and who knows when we'd see each other again. Nothing's changed since you left Mars, except that I'm never here either now. That's why we agreed it was over in the first place, remember? No long-term forever, no tears, just friends. I know you aren't going to give up your dreams, and I'm not giving up my work either. There is no _us _anymore; not like that."

"I'd come back here if you wanted me," Mars replied, and Sara was amazed, and actually a little afraid, to hear those words come out of his mouth. He looked suddenly defeated, lost.

"Are you insane?" Sara asked, losing momentum at the change. That was not a face she had seen on Mars in a very long time; not since they had first started really talking. What was wrong with him?

"Things haven't been…great," Mars admitted, averting his eyes. "Not for a while. I, hell, nothing's been right since I left you. It just took me a while to figure it out."  
"So what are you saying?" Sara asked, hoping desperately that it wasn't what she thought.

Mars looked back up at her with a sad hope in his eyes that broke her heart. "I'm in love with you, Sara."

Yes, it had to be some cruel cosmic joke. Sara looked away and shook her head as she tried not to lose it at him completely. This wasn't the Mars she knew, and while she still felt very strongly about him, she knew it wasn't love on her part, and it never would be. Aside from tonight's foolish earlier thought that he might be a much needed distraction from her already overwhelming male problems, she hadn't even missed the physical part of their relationship. "I'm sorry, Mars," she replied. "Please, just go."

"But Sara I-"

"Go!" she glared back up at him through her tears. "I can't handle this right now."

Mars looked like he wanted to argue it further, but he didn't. He seemed to make up his mind about something as she watched. "Okay then." He stepped backwards towards the door. "I'm sorry to have bothered you." Then he turned and left; the door thumping shut behind him.

It was several silent seconds before the complete emotional overload kicked in.

**June 24****th****, 1948**

Edward was concerned about Sara all night, but he kept good to his plan to just let her be. A good night's sleep would hopefully set things to rights and, when she was feeling more reasonable, he was sure the whole thing would just blow over. Sara didn't hold a grudge, and neither did Maes. They were both reasonable most of the time, and they were friends; they'd work it out, however things turned out.

In the morning, Ed got up, waited until a reasonable hour and then went over to the apartment. He knocked on the door and waited a minute but heard nothing inside. Out of habit, he tried the door, and was a little surprised when it actually came open in his hand. It wasn't locked.

"Sara, you home?" he called out as he poked his head inside and looked around. She didn't respond, but then, she didn't have to. Ed spotted her immediately, and his heart ached at the sight.

Sara was sprawled out on the couch, face towards the door, out cold, sleeping with her mouth open – a trait Winry insisted she got from Ed. On the floor was an empty pint of cookie dough ice cream, a few drips slowly sinking into the throw rug, and a half-empty bottle of cream liquor stood on the table.

"Oh, baby girl," Ed sighed. Either he had drastically underestimated how worn out Sara really was, or last night had been a lot more emotional than he had realized. Either way, it had obviously been too much; this was not her typical behavior.

There were two half-empty cups of tea on the table too he noticed. She'd had company? Ed was sure he'd get the story eventually, but for now he didn't want to wake her, even if it meant being a little late in to work. He placed a quiet call to Al, letting him know he'd be in late, and picked up the tea cups and washed them. He had just put on coffee when he heard a soft groan emanate from the living room.

"Morning," was all he said as he walked back into the room.

Sara slowly opened one eye, winced, then opened the other, and they focused on him. "Daddy?" Now he knew she was out of it. She almost never called him that anymore.

"You seemed pretty upset last night," Ed explained. "I just planned to drop by and see how you were holding up."

He didn't have to say anything more, Sara's face flushed red and she sat up quickly, wincing as she did so. "Can we just pretend you came over, found me in a great mood, and left?" she asked with a sigh, resting her head in her hands.

"I don't think so," Ed shook his head, and smiled sympathetically as he sat down on the couch next to her. "Too much to drink?"

"Too much ice cream," Sara shook her head, but offered him a weak smile in return. "Though that didn't help." She still looked embarrassed. "It wasn't full when I started," she added defensively. "I had friends over the other night."

"Hey, I didn't ask for an explanation now, did I?" Ed asked, keeping his manner relaxed. The last thing Sara needed was more stress. Still, it was always kind of nice to know his daughter was still as responsible as always.

Sara sighed and worried her lip with her teeth, the same way Winry did sometimes when she was upset or worried. "I feel like an idiot. I'm sorry I lost last night. Everybody probably heard us."

"Not everyone," Ed countered. "But a lot of people did, yes. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No…yes…oh I don't know!" Sara wailed, leaning back into the back cushions of the couch and looking up at the ceiling. "It's just all so confusing."

"Is this about Maes?" Ed asked, not wanting to push to hard, but he knew her. Just like him, it took a little prodding to get things out even when you really wanted to talk something over and figure it out.

"If it were just him, this might be easier," Sara replied, and Ed noticed her eyes were wet. "I just… don't know what's wrong with me. I was standing there, and then Maes asked me to dance, and he got mad at me because of Franz and he admitted that apparently _he's_ been interested in me for years and just never said anything. As if watching him flirt with other girls would be a _dead give away_," she snorted, venting. Ed didn't interrupt. "And then I got mad, and you heard the rest of it I'm sure, and then I came home, and then Mars showed up and –"

"Wait. Mars?" Ed couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Mars Leighton was here last night?"

"He just got into town," Sara nodded. "So he thought he'd drop by and surprise me. It was okay at first but then he just kind of kissed me and I, well I was all confused and stressed out and it seemed like a good idea at the time and we…"

"What?" Damn it, he'd interrupted again, but Ed really wasn't sure he liked where this was going. It sounded like a royal mess to begin with and if Mars had laid one hand where it didn't belong he was going to go find the boy and the discussion would _not _involve words!

"We were on the couch," Sara sighed and grimaced. "And then he tried something and I got pissed at him and called him on it and he told me he was _in love_ with me of all things! Two guys in one night; I must be the unluckiest woman in the history of Amestris. I mean _really._"

Ed's temper settled back down from boiling to a simmer. Nothing had happened. He wasn't going to go killing anybody today, at least not yet. Besides, Sara was long grown. It wasn't like he could really just go getting involved in her business anymore than she wanted him there; in theory. "And here I thought that was some girls' dream," he commented glibly.

Sara glared at him, but at least she wasn't ranting anymore. There were tears in her eyes though, and from the looks of her face, she'd shed more than her share of them last night already. "Only if it's someone you want, Dad."

"I see." Ed stood up as he heard the pot going off. "So you're not interested in Maes Mustang _or_ Mars Leighton," he asked as he went into the little kitchen and poured them both cups of coffee, adding plenty of sugar to both, and cream to Sara's.

"Not that it's any of your business," Sara grumbled. "They're not the one I _want_ or at least, thought I wanted."

When Ed came back into the room, Sara's expression had softened. He handed her the cup without a word and sat back down. "I saw Gina," he did comment softly then. While Sara had never admitted her feelings for Franz Heimler outright, at least, not to him or Winry, it had always been pretty obvious to him ever since Sara was fourteen. Obviously, those feelings had not gone away over the years. "You're doing the right thing though. At least I think you are."

"What do you know about it?" Sara asked, and it wasn't sarcastic, she was clearly honestly wondering.

"You're lousy at hiding your feelings from me," Ed admitted with a shrug. "It wasn't hard to figure out you still like Franz, or see why." The man had been in Breda's offices for about three years now, and Ed had gotten to know him fairly well. Really, at this point he would have had no objections to Franz dating his daughter, but it looked like that wasn't happening. "Last night was pretty rough on you."

"To put it mildly," Sara grumbled and sipped her coffee. "I know I'm not in love with Mars, but I do care about him, and I'm not sure how to fix that. Franz well… I don't know, but I may never find out, and Maes…. Maes just confuses and frustrates the hell out of me lately!"

"He's a Mustang," Ed chuckled. "That comes with the territory." He shook his head and sipped his coffee. "It's not a new story though, a guy falling in love with his childhood best friend. Easy to do when she's a pretty girl."

Sara looked at him and sighed. "If you start making comparisons between yourself and Maes Mustang, it really is the end of the world." She drank again.

"I'm not saying the story has to end the same way," Ed shrugged, trying to give her a little perspective if nothing else. "Or even that it should. You're the only one who can figure out how you really feel about anybody. I guess I'm just saying consider it from all sides and try not to make a snap decision."

"Words of experience," Sara smirked, though she still looked tired, frustrated.  
"I know I overreacted last night, but Maes caught me entirely off guard, and it was like he was trying to pry into my private business."

"Things don't have to be settled in a day," Ed pointed out. "Guys don't give up easily, even when we probably should."

"Thanks for coming by this morning, Dad," Sara sighed and leaned against him.

Ed smiled and put his arm around her shoulders. "I thought you might need a little company."

"Or at least the coffee," Sara chuckled softly. "Though I think my friends over at HQ would laugh at me."

"What for?" Ed asked, not sure what rabbit trail her mind had just run off on.

Sara gestured to the bottle of cream liquor – on the other side of the Gate, Ed knew it as Irish Cream – and laughed. "Two drinks and I was _out_. I am such a lightweight."

"That's probably a good thing," Ed couldn't help chuckling.

"I should really get dressed and get moving," Sara rubbed her eyes and finished her coffee in one long swallow. "I've got some errands that need running that I've been putting off."

"Want some company?" Ed offered. He could be later if need be. Today was mostly paperwork on his part, and nothing that was time sensitive.

Sara chuckled. "Somehow I don't think you want to go underwear shopping with me, Dad."

"Oh." No, he _definitely_ wasn't needed for that. Ed laughed and got up. "You're right. I'll get going then. I'm sure Al will be pleased not to have to do my paperwork. You sure you're all right?"

"No," Sara replied honestly. "But I'm better than I was last night."

Well, that was a start.

* * *

Sara was still a little groggy by the time she walked from the apartment into downtown Central. Though she couldn't help but think that her father was right; it was a good thing it didn't take much to knock her out. If she had drained that bottle like she'd intended, she would have been too sick this morning to crawl off the couch let alone do anything else. A dull headache and a sour stomach from too much sugar was a much preferable way to suffer!

She hit the department store first where her family had shopped for years. It was affordable, which was critical in keeping a family with three children properly clothed. Of course, Ethan had inherited some of Aldon's old clothes, but hand-me-downs only went so far.

Her own supply of clothing was, Sara had to admit, starting to wear a little thin. Her good clothes rarely got touched hanging in her closet, but the every day items got worn out pretty fast with all the work she put them through. She picked up underwear, a couple of bras, and a couple of new shirts. She had two that hadn't survived her last mission. Some of the others were looking a little worn too. She grabbed an extra couple of tank tops and another pair of pants just to be on the safe side, an extra package of ties for her hair, and then remembered she was out of soap, shampoo, and her socks were getting a little pathetic too.

With one large bag over her arm, Sara headed out of the store, trying to think if there was anything else she needed. She preferred making minimal shopping trips. Downtown was a fun place, where she remembered a lot of good times. The movie theater was here – there were actually _two_ now – and the little place where she and her friends had often stopped for milkshakes or ice cream.

Sara blinked as she glanced over at the Soda Shoppe. Sitting outside at what used to be their _usual table _was Mars. She paused, her stomach knotting at the sight of him. She had been so excited when he first showed up at her door, but the rest of the evening had not gone anywhere near the way she might have hoped. Still, she supposed she owed him an apology. She still cared about her friend and she didn't want to leave him with hurt feelings. It wasn't like he'd tried to press the issue, and she_ had _been pretty into their impromptu make-out session until that point.

Mars hadn't seen her as she approached, but she watched him finish off a milkshake. The waiter came and took the glass away. A minute later, he was back with another one. After several moments of indecision, Sara screwed up her courage and crossed the street.

"I didn't expect to run into you," she commented softly as she walked up.

Mars jumped then turned slightly to glance at her. When she didn't snap at him, he seemed to relax a little. "Just enjoying fond memories," he shrugged and grinned, gesturing with his straw at the shake in front of him. "They just don't make them like this in Creta."

"I guess not," Sara chuckled, glad he hadn't freaked out on her. She knew her father was right. Things didn't have to be sorted out in a day, but she needed to talk to him, to make him understand how she felt, especially when both of them would be off and gone in a few days. "Isn't it a little early though? It's barely lunch time."

"Well it was a little early in the day to be drunk in a bar. Tried that route, didn't work well. These are safer," Mars shrugged. "Care to join me?"

"I thought you'd put on a little weight," Sara half-joked as she took the seat across from him. In daylight, and now that she was actually paying attention, he'd definitely gained a few pounds.

"Well I have been sitting here for almost an hour." It was a weak attempt at humor on his part, and he seemed to realize it. He sighed and sipped his shake.

This was not the Mars Leighton Sara remembered, or even the one in his letters. Something had obviously happened at some point that he had purposefully left out. That meant it couldn't have been good. "And how many shakes can one man consume in an hour?" she quipped.

"Three," Mars chuckled, "If he's not trying too hard."

Sara offered a teasing smile she didn't fully feel. "Then I'm afraid, sir, that I'll have to cut you off." She snatched his shake with one hand before he had time to react; her reactions times were much faster than they used to be, and his apparently slower. "You know," she shook her head. "That heavy drinking'll kill you."

Mars smirked, but at least he looked a little less pathetic. "And what about you?"

"I think I'll be okay, I'm tough," Sara smiled and sipped it pointedly. "Besides, Dad keeps hinting I look like I'm half-starved. A few milkshakes might do me some good."

"It's better than the alternative," Mars sighed.

Sara hated this. There was no reason for them to be awkward, distant. Okay, there _was,_ but last night shouldn't have happened the way it did. "Mars I wanted to apologize for last night," she admitted finally. "I'm still mad about what you tried to do but, well, I over-reacted."

"No," Mars shook his head, and averted his eyes. "You were right, Sara. I didn't even think about it. I just reacted instead of thinking about what I was doing."

"Or who with," Sara added. "Oh look at me, Mars. I'm not going to yell at you again today; at least, not about this." Who knew what he might say later.

"I'm sorry too," he did look up and meet her eyes this time. "Apparently I have atrocious timing."

"It could have been better," Sara admitted. "But it's not really your fault, and I was already frustrated and upset. That doesn't mean I should have taken any of that out on you or used you as a distraction."

"So you're just saying I almost took advantage of a girl while she was vulnerable. Great," Mars replied, sarcasm evident in the last word.

"More like we both almost took advantage of each other," Sara shook her head. "I shouldn't have kissed you at all, Mars. We're not a couple anymore. I had no way of knowing if you're actually available, and I didn't know going further than that had been considered as an option." If she had, she wouldn't have touched him at all.

At that, Mars actually looked embarrassed. "I wasn't thinking," he repeated softly.

Sara sighed. "You've changed, and I'm trying to understand why. There's something that you can't have told me about, and even if what you said last night is true, what I said is too. But I don't want to lose our friendship."

"You may not like me much when I'm finished," Mars sighed, eyeing the milkshake. Sara put one hand on it and Mars' mouth twitched.

"I'll be the judge of that," Sara replied quietly. At this point, it was a story she wasn't going to let him get away with not telling!

Mars sat quietly for several long seconds before he gathered the courage to speak. "You remember last year. Well, almost two years really. I mentioned a girl named Lisa?"

"Sure," Sara nodded. "How could I forget? There were two whole _paragraphs_ about her. You broke up later right?"

"That's not the whole story," Mars admitted. "We started going out late in the fall. It was great. Then, mid-winter things got _serious._" From his tone, Sara didn't need to ask what he meant by serious. Apparently though, he didn't feel comfortable telling her straight out that they'd been sleeping together. Funny hang up to have after last night. "So she moved into my place in the spring." Well,_ that_ was news. Mars had definitely neglected to mention that part before.

Sara knew that, somewhere in this story, the break up was coming. He had never mentioned details, just that he and Lisa weren't seeing each other anymore. Slowly, agonizingly, he recounted some of their relationship, until he got to the end of the school year. "Then a couple of days before we got out for break she just up and told me she was moving to the capitol, wouldn't be back; so long and thanks for the fling." By the end, his tone was bitter, and the anger he must have felt was clear. "She played me like a frickin' violin and then just up and left."

"Oh Mars," Sara couldn't help but feel for him. Talk about a lousy thing to do to someone. No, lousy didn't even_ begin_ to cover it. "That bitch!"

"You're too kind," Mars snorted. "Anyway, that's where I just get more pathetic. I spent the entire summer too drunk to walk myself home; no exaggeration, really. I'll give you addresses and you can write my friends in Pylos and ask. I'm a pretty cheap drunk too. Sobered up after I bombed my first project in the fall, decided that something to substitute for booze might be good." He smiled wistfully. "I was missing you a lot at the time; couldn't help but remember all our conversations here."

Hence the milkshakes. Sara sighed. "So should I feel guilty?"

"What? No!" Mars balked. "That's not what I meant!" He was obviously afraid he'd somehow inadvertently insulted her. "I just… I figured it was a better solution you know. Every time I wanted a drink, I'd go get a shake instead. After a while sober, it wasn't nearly as bad."

"Don't tell me this is light for you," Sara grimaced.

"Hardly," Mars replied with a self-depreciating laugh. "I was just…"

"Drowning your sorrows after last night?" Sara suggested gently.

"Yeah, pretty much."

Well, that certainly explained a few things. Admittedly, it was better than him continuing to get wasted every night and failing out of school. But it was a pretty lousy long-term solution. She was beginning to feel even guiltier about her over-reaction to his profession of love last night. "What does this have to do with me then?" she asked finally. That was what she really needed to know. "Haven't you seen other girls since Lisa?"

"A couple," Mars replied, though he looked even more ashamed, if that was possible. "Mostly one-night stands, nothing serious. I couldn't trust enough after that. They _might_ have worked out as something more long term but…" he shrugged. "I doubt it. All I could think about then was the fact that the only _good_ relationship I've had, the only one that worked and made me happy, was when we were together."

Well that explained it. Sara shook her head. "What we had was great, Mars, but it was never meant to be forever, we agreed to that."

"I know," Mars nodded, though he looked upset. "I was reminded of that enough last night. I completely screwed up."

"Well we agree there," Sara smiled. "I still care a lot about you, but you barely write, we're never going to be in the same place for enough time to even _have _a relationship for years yet, and we've both changed."

"And I feel like a loser because of it," Mars shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I've read every one of your letters at least a half dozen times. You're doing important work, Sara, and apparently doing a great job of it. You clearly love what you're doing, even when you don't like it all the time, and you seem happy."

"Is it really me you're in love with, Mars?" She hated to ask, it sounded cruel, but she had a point to make. "Or was it the memory of a good relationship? I haven't forgotten either you know."

"I wish I knew. Though no guy's gotten to you yet, have they," Mars looked her in the eyes. It wasn't a question.

Sara felt her face flush with heat as she got what he meant. "How would you know?"

"I could see it in your face last night, when you almost killed me," he replied. "And really, that makes it worse for me; what I almost did."

"So it was okay with another girl but not with me?" He really didn't make any sense sometimes.

Mars' expression hardened as he nodded. "They all had more experience than me," was all he said in reply.

Sara wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. This was, singularly, the weirdest conversation she could imagine having with an ex-boyfriend, or any close male friend. She wasn't sure she'd be able to have these kinds of conversations even with her _brothers_. Or especially not with her brothers! "So, what now?" she finally asked lamely. "I'm not in love with you, Mars. I never was, and you know that. As much as I do care about you, it's just not that way. I almost wish it was," she admitted. "Because I hate to hurt you, but I can't pretend feelings that just aren't there."

"I know," Mars replied, smiling sadly. "And I don't want you to, Sara. After I left last night I did a lot of thinking, and I'm still mad at myself for my behavior, but nothing is worth losing you completely. Still," the smile widened just a little. "You should be more aware of just how much of a heartbreaker you are, even without trying."

The look in his eyes was making Sara uncomfortable again. "And why is that?"

"Because no matter how hard you try not to, you're going to break the hearts of guys you might not even ever realize know who you are, but they wish you did." Mars seemed so sure of that. "You're a one of a kind girl and someday some lucky bastard is going to be able to make you as happy as you deserve, and the rest of us will just wish we could have been the one."

Tears. There were tears in her eyes. Why was that? Sara looked away from Mars then, unable to meet that sure gaze. She'd never set out to break anyone's heart, certainly not his! It wasn't fair that it felt like her fault. But then, it wasn't fair to him either. "What will you do now?" she asked after a couple of long, silent minutes.

Mars shrugged. "Just what you told me I'd do last night," he replied. "We're in town for a week. After that, I'm gone again. We'll be in Amestris a week longer, then it's back to Creta by the end of the summer. I've only got another year of study before I'm finished, and I don't want to disappoint you, my folks, or myself." He smiled then. "Don't worry about me, okay? I'll be all right eventually." He glanced at the time then stood up. "I should get going. I have to meet up with Professor Higgins in half an hour."

Sara got up as well and, after an awkward moment, gave in to her instincts and hugged him tightly. Mars seemed startled, but hugged her back. "Take care of yourself," she whispered, then looked up and smirked a little. "And cut back on the shakes okay?" She resisted the urge to say _for me._ Really, that wasn't the point.

That did it. Mars actually smiled; a real one, not the pitiful facsimiles he had been giving her. "Yes ma'am. Whatever you say."

**June 25****th****, 1948**

This was not happening. Really, this had to be the worst timing ever Maes Mustang thought at he stared at Marcus Kane over the Colonel's desk. "You want me to leave today?" he asked incredulously.

"Really, we could have used people out there days ago," Kane replied with a sigh, "If we had known. There's been a lot of drought in the grasslands to the South, and we need a way of reliably and quickly putting in fire breaks. You're the best one for the job. Do you have a _problem_ with this assignment, Firebrand?" His expression told Maes just how serious it was, and how little he was likely to think of Maes' recent personal dilemma as a decent excuse.

Maes sighed. "No, Sir," he replied. "I'll get packed and leave on the train this afternoon."

"Good," Kane nodded. "That's settled then. I'll send word that you're coming." He picked up a stack of paperwork and started reading through it. "Dismissed."

Maes saluted, turned, and headed out of the Colonel's office. Talk about lousy timing! He'd fumed all of yesterday, doing his best to keep his temper reined in and under control. He was usually more patient than this, but the fight with Sara was still bothering him. That hadn't gone anywhere _near_ the way he'd planned it, and he was pretty sure a lot of that was his fault.

He'd gotten guff about it from some of his friends who had witnessed the end of the argument or heard about it second – or third – hand. Not everyone who had commented was friendly either; he'd gotten some snide remarks from guys who didn't like him much, though those didn't bother him as much as the fact that Maes was pretty sure Sara was avoiding him. He hadn't seen her at all yesterday, though someone had mentioned seeing her with_ some guy_ downtown yesterday. From the descriptions, Maes had his suspicions as to whom it was, and it took only the most basic investigative ability to find out that Mars Leighton was in town. As if Maes didn't have enough trouble with Sara's obvious interest in other guys, her former boyfriend _would_ show up now!

Maes had resolved to talk to her again. He had to. His longest held secret was out, the one person he had hoped most would understand was angry with him, and he still wasn't entirely sure he understood _why_.

Probably the weirdest conversation he'd had since the fight on Wednesday night was yesterday afternoon. Sara's father, of all people, had walked up to him with the one piece of advice that actually seemed worth taking. "Give her a little time to cool down then try again, but someplace a little less public this time, Ace." That was all the Fullmetal Alchemist had said, but coming from him, it had a little more weight. Apparently Edward Elric wasn't anywhere near as mad at him as Sara was; possibly not at all. Was there hope then? Or did it just mean that he was staying out of it for the most part?

Maes had hoped to find out, but now he only had a very short couple of hours to do it in, instead of waiting another couple of days like he had planned. So much for moving into the NCO quarters before his next assignment, and if he wanted to talk to Sara he was going to have to find her _fast._ He hadn't seen her around much lately, though he had heard she'd been in to the office a few times. He didn't dare hunt her down in her apartment or at her folks' place. "Hey, Stenson," he asked one of Kane's aides as he was on his way out. "Have you seen Elric?"

"The General or the cute one?" Warrant Officer Stenson teased, though he had to know who Maes meant. No one referred to Fullmetal as just _Elric_ around here! "She's supposed to be around today. We had a bunch of requests come in this morning, as you just got the receiving end of," he shrugged. "Looks like the reprieve is over."

"Looks like," Maes agreed noncommittally as he headed out the door. Sara would be coming this way eventually, so hanging around was his best chance of catching her. As it turned out, he was in luck. As soon as he stepped into the hallway, he spotted Sara – actually in uniform – coming down the hall. Yep, official business. "Hey," he stepped forward, hoping to catch her quickly. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Sara stopped short then tried to go around him. "Later, Mustang. I have a meeting with Colonel Kane."

"Just had one myself," Maes nodded, then plowed in before she could get away, or he lost his nerve, or both. "This won't take long. I just want to talk about the other night. I—"

"Can't this wait?" Sara frowned. "Cause if you want to tell me you've changed your mind, than we'll both look like idiots, and if you want to apologize nothing's going to change in fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes is fine," Maes sighed. He didn't want to get into another fight, but _damn_ she was testy this morning. "Your office?"

"Sure, fine," Sara nodded curtly then headed into the office he had just left. Not wanting to look stupid standing there, or following her back in, Maes headed down to the office next door, where a lot of the State Alchemists had their desks and filing space, for however little they used it. The desks were shared since they were never all in Central at once.

* * *

Sara hadn't really meant to blow Maes off, but she was in a hurry. Kane had actually sounded a little harried on the phone, a rare occurrence. As it turned out, he had reason to be. More and more the State Alchemists over the years had been used for humanitarian aide, civilian assistance, and often now requests were sent when a situation would be aided by the use of a State Alchemist's particular talents and position within the government as a military officer. Those requests, when legitimate, on top of the regular duties within the military purview were what kept State Alchemists hopping.

"There's a noon train heading for Orstel," Kane informed her. "I want you on it. There's a mine up there that's come under some discrepancy as to who owns it, and who owns the rights to its contents. There are two parties whose land runs up against it, but the mine reaches underground well into both of their lands, and there's records indicating that the original owner made a deal with the military for a portion of the profits. It's been empty for years, but suddenly one of the sons on one side is claiming it for his own since he's willing to mine it, and no one has any idea what's in there." Orstel was two stops by train, _and_ several hours by car, shy of Youswell. Sara knew the area fairly well by now.

"So you want me to inspect the mine and see if there's even anything left worth mining, estimate the worth, and figure out the legality of the whole situation." Sara was pretty sure that was it.

"You're right on the mark," Kane sighed, but smiled. "I needed someone who can handle a few hot-heads. Apparently it's already come to blows several times, and gun shots once, though no one was killed."

_Damn_. "I'll make the train," Sara promised. "Any further instructions?"

Kane shook his head. "Call in and give me an initial report after you do the inspection and talk to people. We'll see if some of our guys down here can help crunch some numbers and verify information as necessary."

"Thank you, Colonel," Sara nodded, then saluted and left the office. Noon, it was ten thirty already, and she needed to stop in and have a few words with her father before she left, as well as getting back to the apartment and packing!

* * *

It was eleven thirty before Maes began to be sure that he'd been dodged, or at least forgotten. He found out from Torv Skald that he'd seen Sara leave the building nearly a half an hour before in a pretty big hurry and knew he was right. Sara had orders, and hadn't even swung through to tell him she had to go. Well, he thought bitterly, that was enough to tell where_ he _was on her priority list!

Now, he really needed to move if he wanted to get packed in time to catch his train that afternoon. He hoped that the mission wouldn't last more than a couple of weeks for either of them. Maybe Sara would have had enough time to consider what he'd said by the time they both got back to Central. Then they could sit down and have a real conversation about the whole thing.

**July 15****th****, 1949**

The house was oddly quiet, Edward thought as he sat in the living room at the dining table, ostensibly reading an alchemy book, but really he was staring out into the back yard, watching the sunset shift the colors of the sky and finding that he already missed having all three kids at home. Ethan was upstairs in his room pouring through books on alchemy, auto-mail, and medical texts, as usual.

Ed wondered if the small, empty feeling in his gut was the same one Pinako might have felt watching her children, and then her grand-daughter – and him and Al – up and leave home, going off and starting their own lives.

Ed had adjusted to Sara's in-and-out schedule. He'd also had years to prepare for it, knowing she wanted to take the exam and become a State Alchemist. Ed knew the lifestyle, and it hadn't been too hard to get used to his independent, headstrong child going off just like he did, but healthy and happy and _whole_;At least for the most part.

Aldon had just left that morning on the train with Ollie Larson and Cassandra Silverman. Ed and Winry and Ethan had seen them off, and the Larsons and Cassie's parents had been there too to wish their children well on their first endeavors into the world on their own. Working up at Fort Briggs was really the best place to learn the kinds of engineering skills that Aldon wanted, and the types of design work too. Ed knew his son would have no trouble handling the hard workload, though those first few months would be rough. He more hoped they'd all be able to adjust to the frigid, bleak winters up there. Aldon had admitted, in a quiet moment, that he _was_ a little worried about Cassie given how petite she was; she got cold easily. Given the girl was two inches shorter than Ed and willow-thin he understood his son's concern!

"What do you think they're doing right now?" Winry asked softly as she came up behind him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders.

Ed reached up with his left hand, laying it on hers as he looked up, not having to ask who she meant. He couldn't help grinning just a little as he shrugged. "They're probably cuddled up in their berth practicing keeping each other warm."

"That's not funny," Winry glared at him and her other hand smacked him upside the head. "We just let our son go off to the North with his girlfriend!"

"Relax, Winry," Ed dodged her hand by moving his head, taking only a glancing slap. "There's nothing to worry about. Aldon's as responsible and hard working as you are. He'll be fine at Briggs."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Winry sighed, lifting her other hand and dropping into the chair on his left.

"You and I went off together and nothing ever happened," Ed chuckled. He understood Winry's concerns, but he thought she was over-reacting.

"You call getting married in a little French country church with only your brother to witness _nothing_?" Winry actually smirked at him.

Ed shrugged. "I meant before that. Either way, Aldon's not a kid anymore, not really. He's going to make his own decisions and we're just going to have to live with them. I really think this is going to be a good learning experience for all of them, and I don't think he'll do anything to jeopardize that for him _or_ Cassie." He could imagine the heart attacks he would have given his mother if she ever really knew what he and Al had done in their lives; even as he would have given _almost_ anything to find out! Pinako had certainly done enough parental scolding to make up for not having his parents around whenever they had actually been by.

Winry leaned against his shoulder. "My mind tells me what you're saying makes sense, but my heart's still worried," she admitted softly. "It's just so hard to stop thinking of them as our babies sometimes even when I know they're capable of taking care of themselves." Ed could tell she was talking about all three of their kids now.

"Well you still have one in the nest to mother till you drive him crazy," Ed pointed out with a chuckle. Not that Ethan would mind. Ed knew their youngest actually enjoyed stealing his parents' attention away from his older siblings when he could. Not that he ever lacked for it, especially not with how often he and Ed studied alchemy together, and he and Winry worked on auto-mail.

"Quite a bit after next week," Winry nodded. Ethan's last surgery on his hand was only a few days away, and Ed knew the boy wasn't looking forward to it but – like most eleven year olds – he didn't want to admit to any weakness. "I'm glad it will be the last."

"Me too," Ed agreed. He was glad _sometimes_ that he hadn't grown much after his initial auto-mail surgery. The ports he'd been given then he had never outgrown while Ethan, having been fitted younger, had required upgrades to more than just the fingers as he had grown up to keep things fitting and working properly. The recovery and therapy had been a little shorter each time, but they were still likely looking at three months before Ethan could comfortably use his hand completely again. No wonder the boy wanted to find a way to make things easier on auto-mail patients! "You know though," he smiled. "I doubt Ethan's going to mind being spoiled with a little extra attention."

"Good," Winry smiled. "I think I'm suffering from child withdrawal already."


	2. Fall '48

**July 23rd****, 1948**

It was all Aldon Elric could do to contain his excitement as he stood with Ollie Larson and Cassie just inside the entrance of Fort Briggs. The train ride had been pleasant enough, and the ride up to the Fort from North City not unpleasant either given that summer in the North was cool compared to Central, but not particularly cold. At least, not yet. Aldon knew it would get colder, but for now the place seemed alive and vital. He could smell fresh pine forests all around them, and hoped there would be some free time to explore when they weren't working. The North was one area his parents had never been inclined to visit if they could help it!

"Ah, fresh meat!" A very large, rugged, ruddy-faced man in uniform approached them, grinning. "Welcome to Fort Briggs," he said in a booming voice that wasn't as deep, nor as smooth as that of the Strong Arm Alchemist, but certainly distinct. "I'm Colonel Tai, head of maintenance and engineering here at Briggs. I hope you two are ready to sweat," he looked at Aldon and Ollie with a slight feral amusement that made Aldon a little nervous. He knew that before they would be allowed to try their hands at handling any specialty equipment, or designing anything new, there would be a period of proving themselves. He had figured that would involve maintenance work, which was fine with him. There was a lot to be learned from working with the equipment already in use.

"Yes, Sir," Aldon and Ollie both said in unison.

Tai seemed pleased. His smile turned kinder as his eyes lit on Cassie. "Miss Silverman, our chief medical officer will be expecting you within the hour. She is looking forward to it."

Cassie smiled. "Thank you, Colonel."

"I'm to make sure you've all got space to bunk and don't get lost before you report in," Tai chortled. "So let's get moving." With that, he turned and strode off.

Aldon exchanged a glance with Ollie as they grabbed their bags and followed. His friend looked as excited and yet worried as he felt. This was going to really be something.

Apparently Briggs was not nearly as crowded as it had been when the border was still considered a hot spot. Nothing even remotely untoward had happened between Drachma and Amestris in nearly fifteen years, and before that it had mostly been glaring at each other suspiciously over the border since the treaty signed after the border dispute more than twenty years ago. So that meant there was a little more room for the people who were up there. Ollie and Aldon were bunked in together, and Cassie was going to room with another young woman who also worked in the Fort hospital. Tai showed them where to report, showed them their rooms, then told them to get changed and meet up with Foreman Gortmann, who was the man they were going to be training under and had gotten the letters from originally.

"Not bad," Ollie grinned as he dumped his duffel on the top bunk.

"If you like it cramped," Aldon chuckled. The room wasn't tiny, but it was cramped with the bunks, dressers, and a single table with a couple of chairs.

"They said we'd be roughing it," Ollie countered jokingly. "At least the place is heated and we get our own facilities!" The bathroom consisted of one toilet, one sink, and one small shower, but it _was_ better than sharing barrack facilities like the common soldiers stationed here did. There were, it seemed, some positive aspects to being civilian workers up here. "And," he grinned wickedly at Aldon, "Cassie's only four doors down."

That made Aldon grin even wider. "Yeah, I noticed." It was still a little heady really, heading off like this with his best friend and his girlfriend; as close to _adventure_ as they were ever likely to get!

"Lucky dog," Ollie laughed, ice blue eyes shining with amusement. "I hope there are a _few_ available girls around here or this is going to be one dull apprenticeship!"

"We're here to learn engineering not score dates," Aldon reminded him as he stepped into the bathroom and changed into more appropriate work clothes; long sleeves in a place like this though. It was still cooler than he was accustomed to.

"Says the guy who brought his own," Ollie snorted. "It gets cold up here at nights, or so I hear."

"That's what blankets are for," Aldon commented as he came back out, though he felt the tips of his ears turning pink, well aware of what Ollie_ meant. _Not that his friend had any more experience in that area than Aldon did. He just liked to talk.

"You are hopeless," Ollie rolled his eyes.

"Or maybe I just have more respect for women than that," Aldon grinned. "Ready to go?"

"Ready," Ollie nodded.

They made their way to Foreman Gortmann's office. The Foreman, unlike Colonel Tai, was not a military officer. He was, however, another large wiry well-muscled man of later middle-age. Aldon guessed him to be about sixty. "The best way to learn about how we operate up here is to get your hands dirty," Gortmann said gruffly as they stood in front of his desk. "You'll take rotations on all our maintenance crews to familiarize yourself with how we operate, and all the different aspects of our engineering work up here. When you prove to me that you're competent at all of that, however long it takes, and when I'm satisfied with your work I'll let you move on to more complicated duties."

"Yes, Sir," Aldon nodded as Ollie also gave a more serious affirmative.

"I'll brook no horsing around on my time either," Gortmann looked them both in the face. "What you do on your off time is none of my business as long as it doesn't interfere with the workings of Briggs, but you show up to work on time, focused, and sober. This is a job that can kill you if you're not paying attention; understood?"

"Yes, Sir," they chorused. As if they'd do anything to screw up the chance of a _lifetime._

"All right then," Gortmann seemed satisfied for the moment. "Elric, report to the boiler room, Larson, report to the garage. We'll see how long you boys last. Dismissed."

**July 25****th****, 1948 **

Edward picked up the lunch tray and headed upstairs for Ethan's room. Yesterday, three days after the surgery, they had been allowed to bring Ethan home from the hospital. For most people it would have been a much longer stay, but Ed and Winry were certainly_ more than _capable of taking care of a post auto-mail surgery patient. Winry had assisted in the surgery herself, though an actual surgeon had done the primary work. Winry was the auto-mail expert after all.

Still, Ethan had spent two full days after the surgery in the hospital for his initial recovery. While medicine had improved a lot since Ed's own surgery, there were still few things that could be done to less then pain or increase the speed of recovery. Painkillers weren't easily used in auto-mail surgery; while they would numb the pain, they also affected the nerve ends, and that made it more difficult for the surgeon to make sure the ports were attached properly to protect the nerves and make sure they attached right to the auto-mail appendage being connected to the port. Of course, the aftermath of what few painkillers they had was almost worse with side effects than the pain of the surgery itself, so perhaps it was for the best.

Ed had been outside the room during the surgery, as he had been each time Ethan had gone in before. He was glad this was the last time. Watching Ethan go through the necessary size upgrades that came with growing, then having to go through recovery more than once, he found himself impressed with his youngest child. Like himself, Ethan had never once cried out during surgery, not even when he was little; he'd gritted his teeth, and while he had whimpered, gasped, and made other small noises, he never screamed and he patiently went through recovery and therapy each time to get back the use of his hand. The resilience and persistence of his son left Ed a little in awe.

Ethan was awake when Ed stepped inside his door, left open so they could hear him call if he needed anything. Bounce was curled up at the foot of the bed, her little tail wagging when she spotted Ed. "Hey, kid," Ed smiled when Ethan's eyes lit on him. "Hungry?"

"Not really," Ethan admitted. Ed wasn't really surprised. It was normal for the first week or so after the surgery. All Ethan was likely to do much of for a few more days was sleep a lot as his body recovered from the pain and shock to the system. He'd eat plenty though, even if he didn't feel like it. To keep him from unnecessarily causing more pain, and to keep any infection from setting in, the hand was heavily bandaged, and Ethan's arm up in a sling to keep it more immobile. "Got anything to drink?"

"Plenty of that too," Ed smiled, setting the tray down and sitting on the edge of the bed. "How's the fever?" The low grade temperature that came and went for days after was normal too. It was only if it got higher that they'd need to worry.

"Warm," Ethan quipped sardonically as Ed felt his forehead.

"Very funny," Ed shook his head, "If accurate. There are sandwiches if you want them; applesauce, fruit juice, water." He shrugged. "Anything else, I'll raid the kitchen."

"Mom made cookies last night didn't she?" Ethan looked hopeful.

Ed laughed. "You heard or smelled?"

"Both," Ethan grinned, a positive sight given how worn out he looked at this point. "A few of those would hit the spot!"

"Your Mom will kill me if that's all you eat today," Ed chuckled, ruffling his son's hair with his hand. "Getting pretty shaggy there," he smirked. "You ever decide if you wanted to cut it or grow it out?"

"I don't know," his son admitted. "It'd be cool but…"

"But what?"

Ethan shrugged, grimaced slightly as his arm moved, then smiled smugly. "I don't want to look like a girl."

"Why you little punk!" Ed snorted. "Since when does that have anything to do with it? You don't think_ I _look like a girl do you?"

"No," Ethan admitted, laughing. He was definitely in a better mood than he'd been yesterday, and that was always another good sign. Nothing kept his spirits down for long. "I just wanted to see how you'd react."

"You're worse than your mother," Ed replied, smiling.

"Thanks for staying home, Dad," Ethan smiled back. "You sure you're not missing any important work because of me?"

Ed shook his head. "Kiddo, this is the most _important_ work I could possibly have, and the best."

**September 20****th****, 1948**

Aldon collapsed on his bed with a groan, barely taking the time to kick off his boots. Every muscle in his body ached, but it wasn't really a bad feeling; at least, not _anymore._ The first month had been the toughest; working sunup to sundown with very few breaks. There was a lot to be done to keep Briggs running smoothly, and he was learning how to do most of it. In the past month he had fixed vehicles, lengths of leaky pipe, air ducts; he'd cleaned and organized and lifted and built; and if there was a need for it, he'd even been shuffled off to the auto-mail shop a couple of times to assist when they were busy. After the first month, his stamina had increased as his body got used to the work.

Foreman Gortmann seemed pleased with his work; at least, as pleased as the man ever was. Apparently the reports he was getting were good though, because his usual comment was a grunted "keep working" and few complaints. He complained about everyone, so that was normal.

It hadn't taken too long to get used to how things really worked at Briggs, despite how different it was from any environment Aldon was familiar with. They were tough workers, task oriented perfectionists because they had to be; but much more laid back off duty. There was a close camaraderie among the engineers and general maintenance crews of the Fort – soldier and non-soldier alike – a rough friendliness. While wary at first, if you proved willing to work hard and weren't a problem, you were part of the family!

"Look what I scored," Ollie's enthusiastic bellow filled their little living space as he came in the door, a box in his hands. "I tell you, paying work beats fixing up that old junker in Dad's garage any day."

Aldon sat up enough to see what as in the box as Ollie set it down. "Don't tell me the party's in here tonight," he groaned. What he really wanted was a bath and some sleep! "Everyone played cards here _last_ night."

"What can I say," Ollie grinned as he nudged the box – which contained bottles of beer- under the table. "Our place has something no one else's does."

"What's that?" Aldon asked. It certainly wasn't style or great atmosphere.

"It's clean."

Well, it _was_ that. Aldon was too well trained by his mother to keep things neat and orderly so he could _find_ things so workshop habits had finally crept into his living environment too. And it wasn't like they had all that much stuff. "And why should I agree to this?"

"Cause Kit and Cassie promised they'd be here," Ollie's grin widened. Kit was Cassie's roommate; a long-legged red head who liked to flirt, but so far had refused all of Ollie's attempts to get her on a real date. She hadn't turned him down_ flat_ really yet, so eternal hope seemed to spring anew in Ollie every few days.

But if Cassie would be off shift early… "I guess I can't say no then," Aldon chuckled. "Let me get a shower in though. I smell like pitch tar and machine oil."

"Good idea. Can't have you offending the ladies," Ollie chuckled as he actually started making his bed; something he _only_ did to impress guests.

"No, you do that well enough on your own," Aldon smirked as he forced himself back to his feet and grabbed a towel. He dodged a flying shirt as he shut the bathroom door behind him.

The water pressure in the shower wasn't great but the water was hot, and that was enough for him. Aldon scrubbed down till all he could smell was soap, shaved since he thought about it, then allowed himself to soak for a couple of extra minutes. Much as he griped, he was looking forward to this evening. With their hectic schedules, he didn't see nearly as much of Cassie as he would have liked. They had put her on the afternoon through evening shift last month, and now they _might_ catch each other at breakfast. Otherwise, it was only on her nights off that they had any real time together!

When he was clean, Aldon made himself crawl out of the shower and dry off. He came out and poked his head into his closet looking for something clean to wear, noting that he was definitely going to need to do laundry again soon. All that was left was a collared shirt, not one of the tees he usually lounged around in. Well, at least Cassie wouldn't complain about him looking like he lived in the woods up here. He could use a hair cut too. Just a trim he noted as he glanced in the small mirror on the wall, but finding the time was nearly impossible.

The shirt, he was surprised to note as he buttoned it, was getting a little snug in the shoulders. Aldon added new shirts to the growing list of _'things to go pick up on his next day off.'_ He was actually saving up a good amount of cash this way though.

"Well don't you clean up good," Ollie teased him as he finished cleaning up his own stuff. "You almost look civilized again."

"Almost," Aldon chuckled. The truth was, he really liked it up here. Not that he hadn't enjoyed growing up in Central, but spending all day up to his elbows in grease and parts and tools was a good way to make a living doing something he actually liked. He also had hopes that sooner, rather than later, they'd be moving into more advanced training. He could already do _any_ basic maintenance job in the Fort as quickly and efficiently as any of the others. So could Ollie, for all the fact he acted more like a goof off sometimes he really wasn't when it came to working.

"Hey boys!" Kit called out, not bothering to knock as she opened the door. "Hope everybody's decent, the party's coming in!"

"Just in time," Aldon chuckled softly to Ollie as he turned around. Kit and Cassie came in, almost immediately followed by Sven, Roger, and Karl – all fellow mechanics and engineers – and Missy and Tamara, Sven and Karl's girlfriends. Missy also worked nursing with Kit and Cassie; Tamara was one of the few female mechanics. Kit was her typical self, in tight mid-calf length white pants and a fitted knit sweater in a vibrant blue worn to ward off the evening chill. Aldon's eyes were drawn to Cassie though; her outfit not overly dissimilar, if a little less _clingy_ in soft heather gray pants and a plum colored sweater.

Aldon would have said hello to their friends if Cassie hadn't gotten to him first. She smiled up at him until Kit nudged her from behind with a well aimed hip, shoving her right up into Aldon's arms. "No time to be shy, girl! You've been mooning all week."

Cassie blushed red, but didn't pull back as Aldon took advantage of the opportunity to kiss her, ignoring the cat calls as their friends piled into the room, bringing further provisions of drinks and snacks. None of that mattered the moment she was there in his arms, warm and intoxicatingly real, and not a wistful daydream during one of his afternoon breaks.

"C'mon Elric!" Roger finally snorted. "You're holding up the game! Unless you wanna go make use of the fact my place is empty," he smirked suggestively.

"That won't be necessary," Aldon replied, then smiled at Cassie. "After you, dear lady," he pulled out a chair for her around the crowded table.

"It's disgusting," Sven laughed, popping open a bottle of what looked like Drachman vodka. "Who wants a swig?" he offered, passing the bottle after taking a sip himself. "This is the good stuff!"

"Ooh, me!" Kit snagged it next and sipped, her face screwed up a little. "Blech. I don't know how they drink that stuff," she sighed. "I'll stick with the brandy thanks."

"Well Sven's grandfather was Drachman, we all know that," Karl chuckled. "Of course he can drink it; it's like water for him." He took a swig from the bottle himself. "Not bad," he commented, as it moved on around to Ollie, then back to Sven.

"What about you, Don?" Sven grinned at Aldon. "Don't tell me you can pass up a rare cultural opportunity like this one."

"I'll stick with my usual thanks," Aldon shook his head as he pulled one of the beers out from the box under the table. He only ever had one, and most of the time he ended up splitting it with Cassie.

"He's a damned saint," Roger rolled his eyes. "All right folks," he pulled out the cards as Aldon settled down in the last chair between Cassie and Ollie and put his arm around her shoulders. "The game's Drachman seven card stud. Loser at the end of the night buys the next game's drinks." With practiced speed he began dealing.

Aldon took his cards and had to keep himself from smiling as he looked at the hand. He rarely won, but he never came in the loser of the evening; he'd learned cards from playing with his father, uncle, and sister!

Cassie preferred to watch, but that was fine with him. As she snuggled into his side, Aldon had to admit, he was _definitely_ getting used to living like this!

**October 14****th****, 1948**

The call came while Sara was finishing up with the small matter of a rumor of someone having created a chimera a little village in the North-east. She had found the creature in question – someone's sick idea of a joke really, some poor deer with a dead goose strapped to its back. The reason animals had been dying was actually a pack of dogs. The imaginations some people had! The deer had been freed of its torment, the dogs taken into custody, and their former owner fined the cost of all the animals his dogs had killed. The morning was gray and misting, and Sara was looking forward to getting inside.

"Excuse me, Twilight Alchemist? There's a call for you at the police station," a young man informed her politely as she was heading for the inn. Sara recognized him; his father was the local police chief.

"Thank you, Paul," Sara nodded and turned, heading there instead. The boy ran on ahead.

"It's from Central," the secretary said as she handed over the phone.

"Twilight Alchemist Sara Elric speaking," Sara said into the phone formally, not sure who to expect on the other end of the line.

"It's Kane," she recognized Marcus' voice at once. "We've just gotten an emergency call from the town of Graywall. There's been a major mudslide. We're sending in rescue teams, but I'm calling in anyone closer_ now_! That's less than two hours from your current location."

A mudslide? That wasn't good. Up here that could be enough to bury an entire town! Especially one like Graywall, which sat at the bottom of a large stone cliff. The autumn rains had been bad so far this year. "I'm on it, Colonel," Sara replied. "I'll report as soon as I have something." Hanging up the phone she turned to the police chief as he walked in the door. "I need a ride up toward Graywall," she informed him without preamble. "There's been a mudslide."

A car was quickly found, and they made it down the mountain and most of the way to Graywall before they found the road blocked by leading edge of the slide. "I'll go on foot from here," Sara assured the villager driving as she took off toward the town. The road was impassable for a car and difficult on foot too. It definitely looked like a little alchemy was going to be needed.

"Hey, Twilight!"

Sara looked up, startled by a voice as she saw a vaguely familiar frame running towards her at full tilt. "Cal!" It was Cal Fischer, the Whitewater Alchemist. "What are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are," he said as he stopped beside her, panting heavily. "I was in the village just west of here and we heard it go! Come on, there's a clearer trail this way, more rocks, slightly less mud."

Sara followed him without question and within ten minutes they were looking down at what remained of the town of Graywall. It looked like half the _mountain_ had come down on it!

"Let's go." Cal took off ahead of her, slogging right into the mud as he headed for the nearest half-collapsed houses. "We've got to locate any survivors."

That snapped Sara out of it. "Right." She followed, and together they began prying their way into houses, calling out as they went. They had come into town at the far end from the slide, and there were plenty of survivors already slogging their own way out, mostly unharmed, just shocked and frightened. The arrival of two State Alchemists spurred them into action though. Those with houses still standing and sound gathered their neighbors and friends, and the young ones and elderly were taken inside while those of sound body followed Cal and Sara as they headed further into the muck. It was messy, slow going. As they found houses with people in them, Cal and Sara both used alchemy to shore them up and keep them from collapsing, moved as much of the mud as they could, made sure the people inside were all right, then let the locals deal with them as they moved on.

It was much worse at the far end of town. Lots of houses had completely collapsed. From some of them came cries for help, while from others no sound came at all. A lot of people had been home. Sara could only hope that a decent number had been further down the mountain, working in the nearby mines! The ones they found often weren't so lucky, badly injured in many cases, dead in more. The bodies made Sara feel queasy, but they left them be for now. This was a rescue mission – the living came first. The injured were, fortunately, quickly seen by the townsfolk who followed and the medics who were finally arriving on the scene with the rest of the first wave of military aid.

"You take that one," Cal, now well mud-soaked, pointed to the right then headed into the one on the left side of the street, having to remove the door and transmute a large pile of mud so that it formed walls on either side of the door before he could get in at all.

Sara, no cleaner now from digging around and hauling people out of the cold wet muck, did the same with the shop on the other side. There were voices somewhere inside, crying out, but it was too muffled to tell where they were in the building. "Hold on!" she called out as she cleared the open door and used alchemy to move the mud out of the main room where it had flooded in. "Help's coming. Where are you?" she called out again as she stood in the room.

"Back here…" came a voice; it sounded like a frightened woman.

Sara made her way through the house and opened the door to one of the rooms. Only then did she discover why someone was still in here.

In the mudslide, a giant boulder had been slammed into the side of the building, collapsing a good chunk of the up-hill facing side. The wall had bent in, and the house was sagging badly at that end.

There was a woman crouched in the muck on the ground, trying in vain to budge the boulder and the wall under it. Stuck underneath, whimpering softly, pale and frightened, was a little girl!

"Please help me!" the woman, clearly her mother, looked up with a tear-streaked face. "Hold on Katie, we'll get you out of here."

Damn! Sara nodded and hurried over, looking at the wall, the boulder, and the little girl down in the mud. She didn't look good at all; pale, shivering, and sweating at the same time. She'd been trapped under there for at least three hours by now, if not longer. "Just a minute," she said, placing her hands against the wall and the boulder, examining just how much of the building had collapsed, and she cursed softly. Moving the wall and the boulder would cause the rest of the wall of mud outside to come sliding in to fill up the space, killing them all. She was going to have to move them and shore up the house at the same time, as well as holding back the mud.

A brief flash of memory; her father's confidently grinning face the first time he'd assigned her a transmutation that required doing more than two things at once. The same grin he'd had when he told her about putting back together the entire Inn in Youswell. His advice came with the image; not to get too bogged down in details and over think things. Decide what she wanted to do, visualize it, and then let the transmutation take care of itself. She knew the composite parts, she was good enough not to have to try and reason it out molecule by molecule.

"Can you move it?" the woman asked finally, her teary eyes pleading with Sara.

Sara nodded. "I can, but I'm going to have to do some pretty complicated alchemy here. Please stand back out of the way, over there," she gestured back to the doorway.

The woman scampered backwards and Sara turned her attention once more to the wall. She was glad she'd brought her gloves; drawing transmutation circles in the mud or on this would have been a mess. She brought her hands together and then laid them on the wall. "Just hold on now," she smiled down at the terrified girl below her, who was staring up at an angle, frightened, but obviously badly injured and too weak to do much else. "We'll have you out soon." She focused then looked up at the wall as she began the transmutation.

Everything began to glow, and as she watched, the wall began to shift back up into place, shoving the boulder with it into the muck; the house shuddered as it strengthened, broken beams rising back into place and splintered wood reconstituting itself into strong weight-bearing timbers. Within a minute, the house stood upright again, and the wall and the boulder were off the child.

That wasn't enough though. Sara could_ feel _the weight of the mud outside pressing in on the walls, wanting to continue its natural downward motion. She closed her eyes then, visualizing as she used the very air around them and parted the clouds outside – if only briefly, above the house - to give access to more direct light; and basically wrung the mud dry, encouraging the water to leave it and evaporate, until what was outside was no longer a sliding force, but a still, solid mass of clay silicate. Then, in a momentary stroke of insight, Sara flash-fired it, turning it to one giant wall of pottery. It wouldn't turn to mud again with the next rain that way. Hopefully, it would also hold back any future mudslides.

Gasping, Sara opened her eyes, breathing in deeply and wavering just slightly on her feet for a moment. That had been a _lot_ of alchemy, and it had taken a lot more energy than she had been expecting. She remembered the girl, and looked down.

The woman had already run forward and knelt in the mud next to her little girl, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you," she babbled to Sara as she caressed her daughter's face with one hand. "Thank you so much. You saved my Katie."

"You're welcome," Sara replied, smiling a little, though she certainly didn't feel like a hero. Without the wall, the damage done to the girl was obvious; her pelvis and both legs had been rather badly crushed. It was a miracle the girl had survived this long.

"Can you thank the nice alchemist, Katie?" the woman asked softly.

The girl stirred, but she was barely conscious. "Thank…you," the words came out in a soft sigh. She blinked glassy eyes, then they closed again and she stopped moving.

"Katie?" the girl's mother stopped stroking her face. "Katie?" Then she started to cry, collapsing over the still, broken body.

"I'm sorry," was all Sara could think of to say. The girl was dead; she had come too late. Even though she had been able to get her out; she hadn't been able to save her life. It was strange though, as she watched, as much as she felt horrified inside, she felt oddly numb. _Damned professionalism._ "You should get out of here," she spoke softly, calmly to the woman. "It's still not safe. They're evacuating the village to Farfield." That was the village she had just come from. Then she walked out of the building, away from the terrifying image of that little girl as she died before Sara's eyes.

The day had turned to evening by the time she walked outside. The clouds had closed in again as soon as her alchemy had stopped affecting them, and the place was dismal. The rescue teams had turned on lanterns and had reached the far end of town. Sara was called in to several more buildings to help shore things up. She worked on auto-pilot, shoving her emotions to the back as she faced wrecked homes and shops and helped move out mud where necessary so the teams could move the living and begin to deal with the dead.

"Elric!" Cal appeared at her side. "Damn it, Sara, aren't you listening? I've been called you for three minutes."

"Sorry," Sara blinked, and looked up from where she had been observing one of the rescue teams. "What do you need, Fischer?"

"You and I are relieved for the night," he informed her with a sigh. "There's a ride waiting to take us to Farfield. That's where you came from right?"

Sara nodded. "There's an Inn." Her things were all still up in her room there actually.

"Good. Let's get going then," he turned and headed for the car, pausing when she didn't follow immediately. "_Move it_, Twilight. I don't care if this _is_ your time of day, it's not mine."

"Very funny," Sara replied, finding no humor in the comment whatsoever. She pried her eyes away from the desolate scene around them and followed him to the military truck full of displaced villagers and a few soldiers. They hopped up into the back and took what seats there were to be had.

Sara watched out the back until the mud-covered village of Graywall was no longer in view. Then she closed her eyes and tried not to think about it all the way back to Farfield.

* * *

By the time they reached the village it was raining outside again. Sara went inside, thanked the innkeeper for not kicking her out of her room, paid for another night's stay, and took advantage of the hot baths the inn had available. It took a very long soak to leech the cold from her body, and a lot of scrubbing to get the mud off, though she was glad she'd had her hair in the braid; it had kept the mud from working down through it for the most part. Still, she had to give it a thorough washing, then she just lay there until the water started to cool, trying to think of nothing. What kept returning to her mind were the images of earlier; finding the village, the injured, the terrified children and men and women huddling together, and the dead, so many dead and dying. The little girl Katie couldn't have been more than five years old, and she had only been one of the first that Sara watched expire that day.

The avalanche she had helped with months back hadn't been nearly this traumatic. She had arrived three days into the rescue and by then most of the dying had already done so. There had been a few bodies, but not nearly as many as here.

The hot water couldn't touch the painful chill in her heart that crept through her at the images in her mind. Finally Sara got out, dried off, and got dressed. She pulled her hair back, leaving it unbraided to dry first, and then went downstairs. She didn't feel much like eating but her stomach was growling and that meant she needed food.

Given the late hour – it was almost nine – the inn was unusually crowded thanks to the sudden influx of suddenly homeless townspeople. Sara found a spot at the bar itself, and ordered some of the thick mutton stew that was being served up. Normally, she would have found it delicious but for some reason tonight it was tasteless to her, and no more appetizing than the mud she had spend the day in. It seemed to stick in her throat.

The cup of hot tea, even flavored with milk and honey, was just as unpalatable. So Sara sat there, staring down into the depths of the liquid, watching it swirl, and wondered why her hands were shaking.

"That was something," Cal Fischer commented as he suddenly dropped onto the stool beside her, setting his own bowl on the bar and digging in. "And something I'd rather not see any other day," he added between bites. "Excuse me, barkeep," he waved a hand to get the man's attention. "Whiskey please."

"Sure thing," the barkeeper nodded, apparently recognizing the alchemists. "It's on the house," he grinned as he set the whole bottle down in front of Cal and two glasses. "What you do is a real miracle, I say."

"Hardly my friend," Cal smiled kindly enough. "We do what we can, like anyone else. Your hospitality is thanks enough."

"When did you get silver-tongued," Sara commented flatly after the bartender moved away again.

"It's a gift," Cal shrugged and he popped the bottle, pouring himself a glass. "I just learned how to use it on people other than beautiful women."

Sara snorted. "Get over yourself."

"When the ladies do, I'll consider it," Cal grinned and took a drink.

Sara sighed and tried another sip of her tea. "How can you be so cavalier?"

"Practice," Cal replied, his expression sobering so fast Sara missed the transition as she blinked. "This isn't the first time I've had one of these missions. I'm up here a bunch. It can really get to you." He finished his glass in one long drink and poured another.

Startled by the sudden display of candor, Sara could do little but nod. "Yeah," she agreed, surprised by how soft the word came out, and how tentative. "It can can't it?" Her hands were still shaking. Why was that anyway? Her eyes were wet too.

"Hey." She felt Cal's hand on her arm and heard concern in his voice. "Something wrong?"

"I'm fine." Sara shook her head, and tried to lift the cup again, but her hands were trembling worse and it spilled a little. There were hot tears on her cheeks as the day's pent up emotions simply began to flood the banks.

"You're a terrible liar," Cal replied, his voice surprisingly gentle though as he stood and gave her a little tug. "Let's get you upstairs. Where's your room?"

"Second floor, third on the left," Sara heard herself reply, though she couldn't recall deciding to tell him. It was all a blur how she got upstairs and into her room. The next thing she could coherently recall besides the faces of so many poor, dead people, especially the children, was the feel of the bed beneath her rear, and then Cal's face in front of hers as his hands rested gently on her shoulders.

"Listen to me, Sara" he said softly, his normally laughing gray eyes the most serious she had ever seen them. "I know what we saw today was horrible. There's nothing worse that I've seen yet beyond watching people die and failing to save them. We always feel guilty for not doing enough even when we give _everything_ we've got. You were great today; there's nothing to feel guilty for. What you're feeling right now is normal. You're overwhelmed; I understand that. I'm not feeling much better myself. You'll learn to deal with it though, I promise."

Feeling vulnerable was something Sara had always hated; vulnerability and weakness. Worse, she'd started crying in public! The tears were flowing freely now, and her hands were still shaking, though she finally understood why. This was the price for keeping her calm in the face of adversity, for pushing herself to the extent of her limits, physically, alchemically, and emotionally. She was spent, pure and simple, and she was grieving for all the people they hadn't been able to help. A heart-wrenching sob escaped her then, so strange and foreign a sound she hardly recognized it as coming from her own throat. She leaned into Cal; because he was there, he was a reasonably friendly face, and he understood.

He wasn't laughing at her. Still, she was surprised when his arms folded gently around her, just letting her cry. Cal wasn't a bad guy, but he'd always irritated her with his flirting, his typically_ male_ behavior. It was the strangest sensation to be seeking comfort in his presence. At least he was warm, real; alive. It was that tangible evidence of life she craved, she realized, and the comforting, simple act of letting her cry was a relief in itself.

So Sara cried, for how long she couldn't be sure, until the sobs turned to quieter tears. Finally, she pulled away from him, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Damn, I'm so sorry," she said, looking at his tear-soaked shirt. There were still tears coming down her face, but at least she wasn't hysterical anymore. Talk about _embarrassing._ "I normally don't—"

"Don't apologize," Cal replied, for once not grinning. "You needed to let it out and our work's not over yet. We'll have to go back tomorrow, and the day after, until everything's finished."

"I know," Sara admitted, turning her head away, grimacing at even the thought. How was she going to face that again? She shivered just thinking about it. "I know we have to but I… damn I feel stupid, but I'm scared." Hell, she was going to start bawling like a little kid again right here! She was still shaking; it just got worse when the mere thought of a kid brought to mind the image of little Katie, half-crushed.

"Stop it," Cal grabbed her shoulder firmly. "Don't think about it okay?" He shoved something smooth and hard into her hand. "Drink."

Sara blinked and looked down. Apparently he'd brought the bottle of whiskey. She'd always preferred it mixed in something else; and she could smell it; older stuff. The innkeeper hadn't given them a cheap thank you. "I shouldn't," she shook her head and tried to shove it back. They had to work tomorrow, as he'd just pointed out.

"Not the whole thing, dumb-ass," Cal snorted. "Just a swig."

"As if I would," Sara rolled her eyes. "I'm not you, Calvin Fischer. Fine, if it'll get you off my case." She tipped the bottle up and took a small swallow, closing her eyes and feeling the slight burn as it went down her throat, the usual feeling of warmth that followed quickly afterwards. She never did have to drink much; just a little was enough to get the effects without the hangovers later.

"Even I can't take down a _whole_ one and be any good for work," Cal admitted with a chuckle, taking the bottle back and downing a long drink before offering it back to her. "Especially not good stuff like this. It'd be a shame to waste it though."

"You could try and make it last," Sara suggested with a scowl.

"See, now you're making jokes," Cal smirked. "Well, almost."

It was true. If nothing else, her muscles had relaxed a little and the shaking was subsiding. Sara still felt emotionally wrung out, but she didn't think she was going to fall apart again. Cal was right; it was pretty effective stuff, even though she usually preferred it mixed in cream liquor with other flavors. "Better than yours," she countered as she took the bottle and another small drink.

"Such a lady, even in her cups," Cal chuckled, taking it back and taking a longer pull than Sara dared. She was tired, she wanted desperately to erase the images in her mind, but she wasn't that foolish!

"At least one of us has some class," Sara retorted over another dainty sip.

"Says the girl of such _fine_ and _noble_ birth," Cal drank.

"Exactly," Sara smirked. "The greatest auto-mail engineers and alchemists in Amestrian history," she chuckled, relaxing a little more. It was silly, childish banter, but that was what she needed now; something light-hearted, not serious, the way she and Aldon used to talk when things got serious and they needed to let off stress. "If you try and dispute either I will have to kill you and bury you where they'll never find your remains and the history books will brand you a traitor."

"I'll have to be careful then," Cal laughed, passing the bottle. "I've always said the pretty ones are dangerous."

"Are you _flirting_ with me, Whitewater?" Sara asked as she swallowed. It would be so like him, just like during their class days. Only those jests had never been aimed her direction. "If so, you're doing a terrible job."

"Not so terrible if you're feeling better," Cal grinned. "That's the objective here isn't it?"

"Right," Sara giggled. Giggled? Perhaps she'd had _enough_. She did feel a little better; relaxed, and the worst of it had faded to, well, it was all kind of _fuzzy_ now. That was good though, she knew that much. The world was looking a little fuzzy too, and it was swaying slightly. Or perhaps that was her. "I think…I'm done," she handed the bottle back instead of taking another sup.

"So the rumors are true," Cal commented as he set it down on the little table.

Sara cocked her head slightly and focused on his face with a small frown. "What rumors?"

Cal's insufferable grin got wider. "You really are a lightweight."

Sara glared and took a swing at him, missing by a mile and knocking herself off balance. Instead of smacking him in the head, she fell forward into his arms again. Startled, he caught her. "Sorry," Sara laughed, looking up at him, her eyes locking into his. They were really almost silver, not just gray, she noticed, and uneven, like storm clouds above the sea. A lock of his sandy hair fell across one of them, and she had the urge to push it away. It blocked her view. If she just reached up and moved it she could see the whole storm front that seemed to be behind those normally laughing eyes.

Cal wasn't laughing now. In fact, his eyes were still and wide. His arms were around her and Sara didn't feel cold anymore. She risked a hand, moving that stray lock to see and getting just a little closer, losing herself in a gaze unlike any she had ever known. She was used to being this close to dark brown eyes, or seeing golden up close; never lighter colors on men. It was beautiful, and sad, and less mysterious some how since she could see into them. Sara wondered if, with eyes like that, she could see past them into someone's heart. They seemed so open.

Sara tried to move closer and then, she didn't know who started it, but their mouths were pressed firmly together and they were kissing. She closed her eyes almost involuntarily, tasting the heat and the whiskey they had shared. Her body was suffused with heat, pent up frustrations and grief not yet spent fueling the fire as they seemed to flow from her body, finding release in his eyes, his lips, his touch. It wasn't like anything she had ever felt before… and she liked it.

Her arms went around his neck, and she felt them tilting – the world tilting – as they fell backwards on the bed, side by side. The urgency was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Her hands slid from behind his neck, down his body as he moved, and then he was on top of her instead, and then she on him as they rolled, nearly coming off the bed. The contact of skin on skin was almost like electricity coursing through her. The small voice in the back of her mind telling her that this could _not_ go someplace good was quashed by the fact that she wasn't sure she agreed. _This_ was not confusing, or complicated, and when his hands worked their way down under her shirt, she didn't hesitate.

In a blur of sensation, Sara's world shrank to the size of the bed on which she rested, and the man who was keeping the rest of the world millions of miles away from her head. For the first time in a long time, what she wanted and what she had matched up, however briefly, and she took full advantage of that alignment.

**October 15****th****, 1943 **

_Oh, God._ "Somebody shoot me," Sara grumbled as she blinked her eyes open slowly. Where was she? Oh right, the room in the inn; Farfield. Fake chimeras and…something else.

The events of the day before came back in a rush of memory and Sara gasped, realizing_ then_ that there was a very warm, very real body snuggled up against her back. Had she really just? Oh, hell!

"If they want to," Cal's voice came from behind her, chuckling softly. "They'll have to fight me first."

Slowly, Sara rolled over, wincing a little as she did so. She ached in some…unusual places. Just thinking that, she felt her face go hot.

Cal, hair a mess, smiled at her with a tired but pleased smile. "Morning, Twilight."

Well that sounded odd. "Morning," Sara said, not sure really what else she _should _be saying at this moment. "You're still here." Oh yeah, as if that wasn't _obvious_. Still, she was trying very hard not to panic at the moment!

"I'm not the type to leave a girl passed out without company," Cal smirked, chuckling. "I was a little too drunk to get back to my room too," he admitted. "You're sore?"

"Umm…yeah," Sara admitted, embarrassed he'd noticed.

Cal's expression went oddly sympathetic. What was that for? "Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" Sara asked, even more confused. As foggy and thick as her head felt this morning, she was sure she didn't remember objecting last night. In fact, her own _thoughts_ made her blush much worse this morning.

"That this was your first time," Cal replied. "I'd have been gentler."

"Oh." Now she _knew_ she was blushing. That was probably a dead give away. Of course there was no way Cal Fischer, of all people, would have known one way or the other before hand. "What, you're used to deflowering virgins?" The quip came out more sarcastic than she meant, and she cringed.

"Someone sharpened her tongue this morning," Cal's reply was just as snarky, but he shrugged. "No, not particularly. You just… well you're a lot better than some of the more experienced girls I've met, let's just leave it at that."

"I'm sure talking about past lovers makes most of your companions swoon all over you," Sara scowled through the headache. She was hung over for sure, badly, and that first on top of_ this_ one made her even more irritable.

Cal actually laughed. "They're no secret," he pointed out. It was true. Cal was known as a ladies' man, but he was pretty discrete. "It's a compliment actually, believe it or not."

"I'm just not sure I like the idea of being the topic of discussion later," Sara replied knowingly. Hell, in her mind, she'd known it last night too. This wasn't love; it wasn't even _like_ necessarily. It had been the best stress relief she'd ever found in her life, but that didn't mean she should have done it. "I'm not usually like this. I…"

"Shush," Cal's finger went to her lips. "I know that, Sara. I knew that when we were in class together just watching you. What we did last night was nothing more than give each other some much needed live human contact; a release from pain and sorrow and a little time to forget the hell we sometimes live in doing our jobs. It's not forever. Hell, it's not even _tomorrow_ if you don't want it to be, or ever again, but there's nothing wrong with finding comfort with another person."

"I guess." Sara had to admit she didn't feel forced or cheated. She knew she had instigated that as much as Cal had, even accounting for the fact she'd _known_ she was drinking too much last night, and ignoring that fact more than she should have. It wasn't Cal's fault. Heck _was _there a fault? That assumed that it shouldn't have happened, that she was automatically assuming that she had done something wrong. Had she? Her mother would say so; her father she wasn't so sure about. But how did _she_ feel about it? "I don't regret it," she said slowly at last. "But that doesn't mean I'm proud of my behavior last night."

"Neither am I, to be honest," Cal surprised her again. "You were vulnerable and I've never seen you like that before. I'm not your type and I know it. But I wanted it as badly as you did, and normally there's nothing to think past that."

"But we're both State Alchemists," Sara sighed, rolling on her back so she wouldn't have to keep looking into those gray eyes that had captivated her last night. "This isn't going to do strange things to use working together is it?" She asked finally. "I mean, I don't really need anymore complicating factors in my life."

Cal chuckled. "Nah. I'm not usually one to mix my work and my extracurricular activities. Like I said, I wasn't thinking clearly last night either." At least he was taking his part of the responsibility. "Besides," he added, "I'm always careful and prepared."

Sara glanced at him to ask what he meant, only then seeing the small package he was holding up. She blushed. Shit! She hadn't even thought about the complications last night could have caused without _that._ "Thank goodness for that," she squeaked lamely.

"You really weren't thinking were you?" Cal's smile faded a little. "I hope you're not disappointed."

"What? No, at least, I knew what to expect _after_," Sara objected, than sighed. "My life is too chaotic for any kind of relationship right now anyway, as if this didn't just prove it in_ spades._ It just complicates things." _And how._ She really wasn't sure where her emotions lay at this point. Franz still gave her heart-flutters, Mars had her worried, Maes made her feel confused and hurt and angry, though she wasn't entirely sure why. And now she'd just jumped into _bed_ with a guy who was nice enough to work with, but the _worst _possible choice for a relationship, and she didn't want one with him.

Cal shrugged. "Only if you let it. Not that I'm saying you should try this again with just some guy," he smiled. "But if you need help getting through this – and not just like _this,_" he gestured to them, lying there, still mostly unclothed under the blankets, "Don't bottle up just cause you're embarrassed, or scared, or whatever. You're a nice girl, and I don't want to see you break."

He meant it. For what it was worth, and what he was offering, Cal was sincere and concerned about her well being. Well, that was interesting! Sara smiled. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind. Now…how about that bullet to the head I requested earlier? I feel like hell!"


	3. Winter '48 '49

**October 28th****, 1948 **

"All right, just a few more."

Winry smiled as she watched Edward encourage Ethan through the last few hand exercises. His therapy was moving along well as it had in the past and Winry was beginning to wonder if Elric perseverance was genetic. Ethan didn't seem to want to wait to have full movement back any more than Ed ever had.

The two were sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Good," Ed nodded. "All right, rest it now. Let's ice your hand and give it a break. That's enough for today."

"Thanks Dad," Ethan said as Ed got up and headed for the kitchen. "It's not nearly as bad as it was last week," he looked back at Winry, who was standing by the dining table.

"That's good," Winry smiled. "Just don't push too hard okay?"

"I _know_, Mom." Ethan rolled his eyes, but he smiled anyway. "Hey, what are those?" he asked, looking at what she had just set down.

"Picture albums," Winry grinned as Ed came back out of the kitchen with a bag of ice wrapped in a towel. "You didn't think I only worked on auto-mail in my workshop did you?"

"Pictures?" Ed handed the ice to Ethan and came back over, clearly curious. "Of what?"

"Of us," Winry replied, flipping one of them open. "The whole family. They're in order too. The first one starts with the pictures we have left from when we were kids, and they move on from there."

The one she happened to flip open turned to a page with several shots from what appeared to be a party with several familiar faces; her and Ed, Alphonse, Elicia, Gracia, and a few other people.

Ethan came up behind her, holding the ice to his hand and peering over her shoulder. "Neat! That's Sara right?" he nodded toward one in the middle, with a much smaller Sara sitting on a very narrow strip of a yellow-and-white dress covered lap in one of the few sun dresses Winry had ever convinced her daughter to wear – a little white and pale green one. Unsurprisingly, Sara was covered in cake!

"Who's she with?" Ethan asked then.

"That's me," Winry admitted, blushing slightly. "Before Aldon was born."

"I remember that party," Ed grinned. "It was Al's birthday. You had three pieces of cake as I recall."

"I was _pregnant,_" Winry exclaimed feeling indignant.

"A likely excuse," Ed teased then _dared_ to kiss her cheek!

Winry flipped the page. It had taken her a lot of time to get them all organized and put together, but she was glad she had. There were so many memories in those images that came back when she looked at them; all the stages of their lives spread out in a tangible form. Even the images of Ed and Al as kids – including a few when Al was a suit of armor – made her feel nostalgic.

Ed flipped open another one, pouring through the pictures, enraptured. Ethan seemed eager to look at them too. Of course, he hadn't been around for a lot of the earlier ones. And yet he had been part of their lives for eleven years now; he was almost the same age Ed had been when he passed the State Alchemy exam. At that age, Ed had already performed forbidden alchemy and been recovering from auto-mail surgery. But now, eleven seemed so young!

Watching the two of them together always seemed special to Winry, and not just because of their shared auto-mail parts. Sara was Ed's little girl; his oldest child, and would always hold a particular place in his heart; Winry knew that. They were so much alike, and yet there were key differences that Winry noticed that she wasn't sure Ed always did. Aldon and Ed loved each other and got along well, but they weren't close in the same ways. He had always been the one Winry thought of as being much more like her in many respects.

Ethan was, perhaps out of the necessity of being the youngest, much more his own person and yet, watching them these last couple of months, she knew they were closer than before and sometimes, despite Ethan's lighter hair, she felt like she was watching the one of her children who really was the most like Ed. Precocious, ambitious, eager, but innocent in ways that she recalled all too well from their childhood days. Ed and Sara shared interests, loves, viewpoints; he and Ethan seemed more like kindred souls.

"There aren't a lot of pictures from right before I was born," Ethan commented as they looked through them. He didn't sound angry, but Winry felt a twinge of guilt. "I guess that makes sense," he continued.

"Why do you say that?" Winry couldn't help asking.

Ethan shrugged. "Because it was a pretty tough time, wasn't it? You were hurt in that accident, and then you had to be in bed for a while before I was born too. People don't usually want to remember tough times, so they don't take a lot of pictures." There was no sorrow, merely a statement of fact, and Winry was struck by the maturity of it.

"They don't," Ed agreed with a nod. "Sometimes though, even pictures of happy times can make people sad because they remember what they've lost and what's over. But it's good to have all of those memories." He flipped to the next page. "Though there's plenty of you after," he chuckled, becoming less philosophical as they found Ethan's baby pictures. There were lots of them. Sara and Aldon had been old enough to use the camera by then, and their little brother – and the dogs – had been common subjects for their attempts at photography!

Winry remembered that time as a happy one once she had recovered fully. It had been a little awkward the first couple of weeks, when everyone they knew had wanted to express sympathies, or assurances, about Ethan's missing fingers. Sara and Aldon had simply said it made_ their_ little brother unique, and cooler than anyone else's little siblings, and had treated him completely normally; a true blessing. It was, she suspected, that which had helped Ed move past his initial shock and misplaced feelings of guilt. Winry knew it had helped her. She had accepted Ethan's difference almost immediately, but more because she knew there was nothing else to be done about it. It wasn't her fault or anyone else's. These things happened. She was sure she would not have taken it as well though if she hadn't_ already_ been designing an auto-mail port and fingers in her head to fit on that little hand when he was old enough. Really, Ethan couldn't have been born into a better family to deal with that little quirk. Winry refused to think of it as a deformity or a defect. Her son was happy, healthy, and whole.

"Oh my God, Winry where did you get these?" Ed stopped dead on a page of one of the earlier books that had a lot of old black and white and sepia colored photographs mixed in with some of the color ones, his eyes wide and wavering with emotion.

Winry knew exactly which ones he was looking at. "You didn't think I'd have gone through the Gate without a _camera_ did you?" she asked with a smile. "Some of them are from other people too; friends of yours and Al's. He had a couple, and I took a bunch and collected a few. Sometimes our memories are all we have, and I wanted something to remember as much of our time then as possible."

There was one she loved, of Ed asleep in bed right after they got married, tangled in sheets, but exposed from the waist up, mouth open but oh so very peaceful. It had been one of the few times she'd seen him at peace up till then, and she had wanted to capture if it she could.  
There was an old style shot someone had snapped of Ed helping her down from Maurice's airplane, his hands on her waist and their faces very close together. One of his mechanics had snapped it apparently and gotten it to Al by mailing it to the address in Munich where they got letters whenever they dropped through. Al had been the one to open it and gave it to Winry.

There were plenty of others too; several of the Roma, and the places they had stayed, one of the church where they had gotten married; lots of candid shots of Ed when he wasn't looking her way, and several of Al, and them together.

"Why haven't I seen these?" Ed asked again, his gaze fixed on them. "Did you take all these?"

"Some of them," Winry replied. "Others I asked people to get or I wouldn't be in any of them. I think Al took some too," she admitted. "I didn't show them to you before because I actually forgot about them for a while when we got back. I only got the ones from my camera developed recently. I wasn't sure any of them were still good."

"They're incredible," Ed swallowed, sounding more than a little choked up, and Winry wondered for a moment if he was actually going to cry! "I never realized how much I actually missed it."

"So that's really the other side of the Gate," Ethan's eyes lit up as he looked at the airplane, and some of the other shots that actually showed buildings, people – there were lots of random shots of machinery that had obviously been taken by Winry for reference. "Cool! It really doesn't look that different, but you can tell it is. Do you think all these people and things are still there?"

"There's no way to know," Ed commented softly as he gently turned the pages, much slower than some of the other books. "We had friends there too. I like to think they're still alive and well. But there was war coming the way things were going, I have no doubt of that, and so we'll never know what happened after we left I think. It's too risky to try passing through the Gate again."

"Don't you ever think about it though, Dad?" Ethan asked, his curiosity obviously piqued. "It would be neat to _see _all these things."

"No," Ed replied sharply, shaking his head. "Don't think about ever trying it, Ethan. It's far too dangerous, for everyone on both sides."

"Don't lose a screw, Dad," Ethan sighed and rolled his eyes. "I was just asking."

"Sorry," Ed smiled at him. "I guess the answer is yes, I do think about it from time to time, but I've never actually considered quenching my own curiosity a good enough reason to put two worlds at risk."

"Now that the philosophy lesson's over for today," Winry chuckled, standing up from the table, now strewn with open albums. It was time to get off of serious subjects! She was already feeling a little emotionally overwhelmed from her own thoughts. "If anyone else in this house wants a snack, they'll have to help put these away!"

She chuckled as Ed and Ethan both started scrambling eagerly – a little for effect she suspected - to find a place to put the newly finished albums. Definitely two of a kind!

**December 28****th****, 1948**

Only the rest of the day until a new year, and Aldon was looking forward to the celebration that Briggs had marked on the calendar; one of the few evenings off for the majority of the Fort. Mostly, he was looking forward to spending the entire evening with Cassandra. Maybe with _everyone_ busy enjoying themselves he and Cassie could get a little time alone instead of always being part of the group.

But Aldon had to make it through today's work shift first! Today he was down in the bowels of Briggs, assisting with the weather-proofing of some newly installed water pipes to keep them from freezing. There were a lot of pipes down here, often running in large groups in parallel to different parts of the Fort. The new pipes were replacing old ones. These were the big water-mover pipes too, five inches wide, not the little ones.

"All right!" Aldon bellowed down to the crew below as he finishing tightening the last bolts down. "That's it. Open the valves and let's check her out." He and three other guys were up amongst the pipes to make adjustments as needed, but he hoped this worked. It was the last section for the day and they were _off._

"Water coming on," the call came from below and Aldon felt the rumbling below him and the sudden surge as the empty pipe beside him filled with water shooting down it. He waited, looking the length of his section for cracks, leaks, or any signs of weakness.

"Section A checks out!" he called back after a minute.

"Section B checks out!" The next call came down the line a minute later.

"Section C is tight and clean!"

Aldon heard the problem well before Ollie called out "Problem with Section D!" He ducked around to the outside of the walkway under the pipes to look down the way without the others standing in his view. One section was shaking badly, bucking really, and as he watched two bolts flew off, pinging against other pipe-works below as they fell.

"Shutting it down." The order was relayed below, but Aldon could tell it wasn't going to stop it before the pressure overbuilt and it blew. "Out of the way, Larson!"

"I can fix it," Ollie replied over the sound of water starting to gush out the edge, clambering up on top, but he slipped on the wet metal, falling to the walkway below again and banging his head. He cried out then lay still.

The pipe buckled, and water spurted out, flooding the walkway and starting to go below. Even with the valve closing it would take a couple of minutes for the water to lose pressure and empty out of the pipe at this rate.

Aldon didn't shout, he didn't think. He just reacted instinctively, running down the outside of the walkway, sliding a little on the water as he reached Section D, then dropping to his knees and dragging Ollie bodily off the ground without really stopping. Then he heard a roar and felt something _slam_ painfully into his right shoulder as he used his body to protect his friend. They both slammed into the walkway, and he heard something clanging violently past them, down into the depths, and people shouting and cries to get out of the way.

Aldon's shoulder screamed in agony, his vision blurred, and he lay there on top of Ollie for several seconds before he could see again at all. "Ollie?" he gasped, choking on a mouthful of the water still running over them, though with much less force.

Ollie stirred, blinked, and looked up at him with a dizzy expression. "Is it fixed?"

Aldon wanted to _slap _him. "Damn it, Larson. You scared me half to death," he gasped, then almost fainted as his head swam from moving it quickly. His head hadn't been smacked, but his shoulder and upper back were throbbing now. Aldon couldn't tell if he'd been cut or not, but he didn't think so. Was it the _pipe_ that had slammed into his back?

"Talk about a close call," Sven – who had been working Section C but stuck behind a mess of vertical running pipe that had slowed him down – dropped down beside them. The water was almost a trickle now that the pipe had burst. "Don't move just yet, Don. They've got medics coming. Want to make sure nothing's broken; at least not on _you_. We can be pretty sure Larson's head must've been busted to begin with to close in on a weak pipe like that!"

Ollie was probably okay. He managed a weakly sheepish grin. "I tried."

"Well you owe Elric your life," the project foreman bellowed up from below them. "That pipe could've taken out your head!"

"Don't worry," Aldon grinned, then coughed up another mouthful of water. "I won't fleece you too badly when you pay me back." Then he closed his eyes and just lay still, taking each breath as it came and trying to move as little as possible. At the moment he wasn't sure he really wanted to remain conscious.

It was only a few minutes before he felt hands lightly touch his shoulder, and Aldon cried out involuntarily before biting down on his lower lip and making himself deal with it.

"Bruised to the bone," he heard someone – the medic he guessed – comment. "But nothing's broken. Can you move, Elric?"

Aldon grimaced but, given permission, he made himself sit up, gasping as he made it vertical. "Yeah," he winced, looking into the man's face.

"Good. Then I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you to walk out of here if possible. There's no good way to carry you down from here; your friend either, though he seems to have little more than a bang to the head."

With Aldon off him, Ollie sat up, looking more embarrassed than anything else. "Thanks for the save, buddy."

"We'll get you both to the doctors for a once over," the medic sighed, "Though I doubt we'll find anything new."

Even as Aldon and Ollie were making their way slowly back down to floor level and then up several levels in Briggs to the Fort hospital, the rest of their crew was already moving in on the busted pipe area to replace it and try again. No rest with work left to do. Aldon felt bad about missing out, but he couldn't work like this and the crew chief didn't seem angry with him – though he was clearly mad at Ollie! "We'll talk later, Larson," the chief growled as they passed.

Travel was slow, and Aldon was glad it was his shoulder that ached and not his _legs_. Walking that far would have been worse otherwise. The medic turned out to be right. A doctor had Aldon take his shirt off and got a better look at the injured shoulder, making him put it through a full range of movement tests. Aldon grimaced and gasped a couple of times, but he managed all the movements. No serious damage indeed; it still hurt like hell!

"I'll talk to your boss," the doctor commented after the examination. "You won't be working with that shoulder for a few days at least. It's a deep muscle bruise all right. I'm going to recommend two weeks, but I know you folks," he shook his head. "Use your best judgment. For now, go back to your room and get some rest and try not to aggravate the arm." He gave Aldon a bottle of liniment that was supposed to help ease the bruising and quicken its healing and sent them both off.

"Great way to end the year," Ollie commented glibly as they walked back to their place. "You still coming to the party tonight?"

Aldon would have shrugged but that _hurt._ "I don't think so," he replied. "I don't feel much like living it up tonight." He _wanted_ to stretch out the kinks in his back, but that hurt too. "I think I'm just going to take a shower, read a book or something, and go to bed."

"Well that's no fun," Ollie snorted before sighing heavily a moment later. "I'm sorry, man. This is my fault."

"Forget it," Aldon shook his head. "This is what best friends are for right?"

Ollie smiled, looking a little relieved. "I'm glad you're not mad. Trust me, I'll find a way to make this up to you!"

"Really," Aldon tried to be a little more convincing. "Don't worry about it." He knew Ollie though, and his friend would worry about it until he felt he'd paid back the debt, no matter what Aldon said.

It was about dinner time and the end of shift by the time they got back to the room. "See you later," Ollie grinned as he changed and headed out. "_One_ of us should get plastered and score a chick tonight right?" he teased. When he was gone, Aldon stripped down with agonizing slowness before getting into the shower. The warm water eased the worst of his aches from slamming into the ground and dragging Ollie out of the way, even if it could do nothing for the deeper bruises. He definitely wanted to put some liniment on there, but it occurred to him as he toweled off later that he couldn't_ reach _the back of his own right shoulder!

Aldon wrapped the towel around his waist and went back into the room, where he sat down on his bunk and simply enjoyed the act of _not moving _for several minutes, letting his tormented shoulder muscles rest. He closed his eyes, and was contemplating just having a beer, lying down, and going to sleep when he heard a knock at the door. Ollie never knocked. "Who is it?"

"It's me." Cassie replied.

Hell, how had he forgotten? They were supposed to go out tonight too. Well, staying in would have to do. "Come on in.".

Cassie opened the door and came in, bundled up in long pants and a thick sweater. She wore multiple layers lately in attempts to keep warm, but she'd had two colds already that season. Aldon worried, but she just smiled and assured him that she would be fine. At least at the moment she was healthy. He'd been worried! She smiled at him, but he could see the little worry furrows that showed up in her brow when she was concerned. "I heard what happened today," she said as she crossed the small distance between the door, and him, past the table to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better with you here," Aldon smiled.

"Sweet, but not a real answer," Cassie chuckled. She picked up the bottle of liniment. "Let's get this on that shoulder." With that, she simply opened the bottle, put a little in her hands, and gave him a no-nonsense look; the one she gave patients. "Well, are you going to turn around so I can get to it?"

"Oh, right," Aldon's face flushed and he turned at an angle, only remembering as Cassie sat down right behind him that all he was wearing was his bath towel! Cassie, for all her usual conservative shyness, hardly seemed fazed. "Sorry we won't be doing much tonight."

"I don't mind," Cassie replied softly as her gentle hands touched his back. Aldon cringed at the pain the initial contact caused. "Sorry!"

"Not your fault," Aldon chuckled through the discomfort. "You're gentler than the medic and the doctor were."

As she began to work the liniment into his skin, Aldon relaxed a little. He hadn't lied; he'd always thought Cassie had very nice hands. They were gentle, caring hands, with steady, smooth movements; soft skin and a light but firm touch. As she worked in the medicine, he could feel his pain easing, and he suspected there was a numbing agent in it as well – he'd have to ask which plant – and something that felt cool against the sore skin on the surface as well. They sat in companionable silence, Aldon content to just let her work her magic.

"Feeling better?" she asked finally as her hands moved away from his back.

Aldon turned, catching her hands in his and pulling her close for a kiss. "You always make me feel better," he murmured.

"Thank goodness you're all right," Cassie surprised him then, her arms going around his neck as she buried her face into his chest. "I was so scared when I first heard. There are so many stories in the hospital of the lives lost here in accidents." She was crying!

"Hey," Aldon tilted her chin up with his one hand. "I'm not dead, Cassie. I'm right here, with just one heck of a bruise for my foolish act of heroism." The truth was, he was still pretty shaken up too; possibly a little more so as the reality of what had almost happened sank in. Still, he flashed a grin as cocky as he could make it, hoping to cheer her up. "Must be the blood line."

"Guess so," Cassie replied, smiling gently as she looked up at him. Her deep green gaze spoke volumes though, it always did; worry and assurance and love. How had he ever gotten so fortunate? Then she suddenly blushed bright red and Aldon wondered what he had done.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, not wanting to let her go.

"I well," Cassie stammered a little. "Towel," was all that came out.

Aldon remembered then about the towel and realized that in pulling her closer he had pulled her halfway into his lap. From there, his somewhat involuntary reactions to her presence were probably obvious to her! He chuckled nervously. "Yeah," he replied. _Oh yeah, so smooth Elric._ It wasn't like that wasn't his usual reaction to having his girlfriend in close proximity, but never in a way she might actually _notice_. Usually he had pants on!

As he tried not to panic, it occurred to Aldon that there wasn't really anything to freak out about. He'd almost died two hours ago; why should he be nervous or embarrassed about something so small? It wasn't like he didn't contemplate, pretty much every night, a time in his life when they would have what his parents had. That was still a ways off, he knew that, but maybe making out with his girlfriend would still be a good way to bring in the New Year. That was all he'd had planned anyway. Her hands on his skin, the easing agony of his wounds, the exhilaration of being alive, cheating death; all added up to a rather heady feeling that Aldon found that he rather _liked_!

Instead of stammering an apology or pushing her off, Aldon kissed Cassie again. She seemed surprised by his more emboldened response but quickly gave in, kissing him back, her hands running along his chest and one up and around his neck on the side opposite his injured shoulder, pulling her slender body _completely_ into his lap. The sweater was scratchy against his skin, not smooth like her hands. Aldon slipped his hands under her sweater, hunting for a smoother layer of cloth, and found himself running his hands unexpectedly against soft, supple skin and muscle; her waist and stomach. It was a little like an electric shock, and his grip tightened a little. Part of Aldon expected Cassie to pull back, to complain, to blush at the unusual forwardness, but she didn't. The kiss deepened and she didn't argue as his hands slid her sweater – with all its under layers – up to her head.

They had to break the kiss then, and Aldon knew he should stop it here. It wasn't as if they'd never made out before, but this was going farther, faster, and he was reacting far more strongly than he'd expected. If he didn't stop it here…

Cassie's eyes were wide as she looked up at him; her sweater discarded to the side, all under layers gone with it save her bra. Aldon groaned inwardly at the sight; everything inside him begging his common sense to take a back seat for once. "Cassandra, I…" he licked his lips briefly, wetting them.

It was only then he realized that she'd already started to slide her thick winter pants off too. There was no way she'd… thought failed him at that point. "I know," she replied softly, her gentle gaze unwavering, though a little fearful too. She leaned forward again, her hands pressing into his chest as she brought her lips back to his. There were tears in her eyes! Why tears? "When I first heard, my heart almost stopped," she kissed him softly, her words hushed. "I don't want to lose you; and I was so scared. I—"

"I told you," Aldon put his arms gently on her shoulders. It was hard to be comforting with Cassie half-naked in front of him; a new experience! "I'm all right. I'm not going anywhere."

"I love you," Cassie replied, then shivered a little. Damn, it was too cold in here for her.

Aldon gathered her closer, his arms around her for warmth, ignoring the tug in his shoulder, and he had to duck not to hit his head on the top bunk. "I love you too," he assured her, pulling her down onto the bed beside him, where they could get down into the blankets where it was warmer. He didn't want to regret this later… Aldon caught himself, wondering when the decision had been made, and if he'd actually been _part _of it! Cassie's lost, loving expression, her warm, supple form against him; how was a man supposed to stand up against this kind of adversary?

Dumb question; Cassie wasn't anything of the sort. She was a beautiful, gentle, wonderful woman that he loved deeply; had lost his heart to almost the first time they had talked! He kissed her again, keeping her closer where it was warm, pulling her underneath him more, and angling so he wasn't resting on his injured shoulder as he pulled the blanket up over them both.

It was startlingly easy after that; a gentler, sweeter experience that Aldon had expected. A little awkward too, given their mutual inexperience, but that led to a little nervous laughter, more kissing, and a contended feeling that Aldon hoped would never fade. "Are you all right?" he asked her later, as they cuddled close under his blankets on the barely-one-man sized bunk.

"Fine," Cassie smiled up at him from where she lay, almost entirely submerged in the covers. "You?"

Aldon hadn't expected the question back at him. He actually had to consider, briefly, how he was actually feeling; at least to make it something he could put into words. "Loved," he replied finally, smiling. "You're an incredible woman, Cassandra."

Cassie leaned her head against his chest, sighing in a way Aldon thought signified happiness. "I've wanted this," she admitted softly. "But I was too scared to say so before. We've been so…good, up till now."

"No turning back," Aldon kissed the top of her head, which was what he could see now. "Not that I want to," he added quickly, fearful he might say the wrong thing. He didn't want to blunder _now_. "I could spend the rest of my life like this, with you."

"Me too," Cassie murmured, and Aldon could tell she was drifting off. He probably wasn't far behind. That on top of his injuries had completely wiped him out!

Aldon closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the delicate body in his arms; more aware now of the strength within her thin frame. Having Cassie there felt good, and right, and Aldon was even more certain that he wanted her there for the rest of his life.

**January 1****st****, 1949**

"Well it looks like the real party was here last night after all," a voice chuckled nearby.

Aldon's eyes snapped open, and he looked up to find Ollie – white-blond hair a little tousled, icy blue eyes more than a little bleary – grinning at them from the foot of the bed, leaning against the wooden bed frame. Aldon relaxed; but just a little, well aware of Cassie, still sound asleep in his arms. "Ollie!"

Cassie's eyes opened and she blinked up at Aldon before realizing they weren't alone. Suddenly alert, she squeaked and turned, staring at Ollie, her face going bright pink with embarrassment.

"Oh relax, lovebirds," Ollie smirked. "The way you've been entranced with each other since you_ met_ I'm still amazed at how long your self-restraint held out." He yawned then and stretched until even Aldon could hear vertebrae popping. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to finish celebrating the new year by sleeping off what promises to be a most spectacular hangover in a couple of hours so please," he grinned as he crawled up into his bunk. "Don't mind me!" A moment later his shoes fell off the end of the bed, followed by a shirt, and then silence descended.

Aldon didn't move until he heard soft snoring above, then he looked down at Cassie, who still looked mildly traumatized. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, just silently thankful they had both been completely covered.

Cassie nodded. "I didn't think about anyone coming in," she admitted in a whisper. "What time is it?"

Aldon squinted across the room in the dim light and looked at the clock. "Five in the morning," he said after a moment. "Do you want to go?" he asked as it occurred to him that Cassie probably wouldn't want _everyone_ between his room and hers knowing where she'd been all night.

"No," Cassie shook her head, settling back down. "People would assume anyway, even without evidence; it's their nature. Besides, I'm sure Kit figured it out as soon as she got home."

Aldon groaned softly. If Kit knew, nice as the woman was, chances were it would hit the gossip chain by breakfast. Still, he was glad that Cassie didn't want to leave, because he really, really didn't want her to. Not_ ever._ "Then let's get a little sleep while we can," he chuckled, "before we face a million questions in the morning."

Cassie smiled. "I think that's a very good idea."

**January 10****th****, 1949**

Sara was glad that it was only another couple of hours until they got to the new city down in the Ishbal region. It was _hot _down here. After spending her last several missions up in the northern parts of Amestris, getting shipped south for a meeting with the leaders of the Ishballan tribes had seemed like a nice vacation, especially in January. Finally, she had thought, she could _thaw out._

Now, she was wondering if she would ever be cool again. It had seemed strange to get the call from Kane asking her to join Colonel Hayes on this particular mission. Sara had asked him _why_ they thought sending a State Alchemist into Ishbal was a good idea in the first place, and had been informed that two of the leading Ishballans who dealt with the Amestris military had known her father and uncle in their youth, and while sending Edward or Alphonse would have been ideal, the visit really didn't call for pulling anyone ranking General off their other duties for a relatively routine, if rare, meeting. Both of the Elric Brothers had been sent before a couple of times, or received the Ishballans between there and Central. Apparently, sending Sara counted as the next best thing. When she asked who they were meeting, all she had been told was 'their names are Rick and Leo.'

Sara knew those names; the boys had figured in her parents' and uncle's stories about the search for the Philosopher's Stone. They weren't boys now of course, but leaders among their people. Sara was actually looking forward to meeting them in person.

Of course, the reason she was going _might_ be because Colonel Hayes was a bit of a windbag, and just good looking enough to think he was God's gift to women, without being even remotely good looking enough to be good eye candy.

Not that Sara had seen much of _that_ lately, or been looking. There wasn't time. She was just grateful she hadn't gotten another emergency rescue assignment since Graywall. The whole operation had taken nearly two weeks before she and Cal were relieved and sent elsewhere, alchemist services no longer necessary.

It had been an emotionally heart-wrenching two weeks. Sara had dealt with a lot more dead bodies, and dealt with a lot of distraught people mourning their loved ones; all the way having to remain the calm, confident, but not distant State Alchemist who was there to help fix things. It had been as tough as Cal had said, but after that first night, she had been better able to cope. At least, she had known what to expect.

Sara was, she found, a little torn now about Calvin Fischer. She wasn't interested in him, not at_ all. _She didn't love him, but she thought that they might be friends after all this, instead of general acquaintances and former classmates. Cal was not the _date_ type, but he had proven very capable at the type that he was. Sara was almost embarrassed to have found out for herself the truths of several rumors. Still, he'd been supportive, and in the mess of the next couple of weeks, Sara had taken him up on his offer a couple of times; going so far as to instigate it once after a particularly bad night where Cal had misjudged on the strength of one house, and he and several people from one of the rescue parties had gotten trapped inside. They had all gotten out, but he'd gotten roaring drunk in a bout of guilt, and Sara had helped him upstairs and helped him through it. It was, she thought with some irony, an _equivalent exchange_.

But it was over, and she had no intention of finding herself in bed with Cal Fischer again. For that matter, Sara was pretty sure she knew now that she really wasn't inclined to bed _anyone_ else until she sorted out her feelings and figured out what the _hell_ she was going to do about the men she already had in her life that she wasn't even dating! She hadn't heard from any of them; not that she expected to, always on the move, though she knew Mars was probably back in Creta; Franz was still seeing Gina exclusively, and Maes was, well, news on him had been a little vague. He'd been out of town a lot apparently, and as busy as she.

In the months since then, Sara had come to a very important realization; she did _not_ entirely agree with Cal. As much of a relief and a distraction as their brief affair had been – that was really all it had ever been or would be – it hadn't necessarily been what she needed, or the best way to deal with things. Really, she knew for a fact that it wasn't. It had been available, convenient, and – she had to admit – kind of fun, but anticlimactic compared to the overblown stories of love and passion that seemed so prevalent. She wasn't pleased with herself, but she wasn't going to beat herself up over what she had done either.

There were definitely better ways, even if they weren't always expedient. Sara was just eternally grateful that Cal wasn't the type to blab about his bed partners, and that her parents would likely never find out! While her father wasn't much of a prude really, he would likely take Cal down a notch or two on principle for it, and her mother would throw an _absolute fit._ No matter that Sara was almost twenty-two years old and in the military.

Sara owed her parents a phone call. She wrote when she could, which was usually every couple of weeks or so, but it was nice to talk to them on the phone when she could find the time. The first call home after the Graywall incident had been a real mood lifter. Her father had been full of amusing stories about President Breda and the two new additions to his family! He and Nancy had gone up to meet Charisa and Niam and from the moment they had met it had been impossible to separate them. Charisa, of course, knew that Heymans and Nancy weren't her parents, but they were kind and gentle and they _wanted_ both kids to live safe and happy. Breda – as Sara knew – was a big softie really if you knew what buttons to press, and apparently Charisa was good at doing just that! Central HQ had a new little princess – no longer little Elicia Hughes, no longer a much younger Sara Elric – but Charisa Breda, and apparently she was having a ball! She had come to work with Breda several times as the new family was bonding, and had worked her charms on his office staff and anyone else that happened in.

The best call though had been one that came unsolicited; when Charisa herself had begged Breda to let her talk to Sara again. After all, Sara was the one who had befriended them after the avalanche. She had babbled to Sara about how nice her _new_ parents were, and how much she loved Central and hoped to see Sara soon. After, Breda had thanked her again personally, and Sara had found herself a little choked up!

Still, she hadn't called home recently, and she was dying for news; how Ethan was doing, what her parents had planned for this year's run of family celebrations – her father was turning _fifty._ That was a big deal in her mind, and she wanted very much to know how Dad felt about the whole thing; because so far he wasn't talking! She also wanted news of Aldon. She missed the closeness she had shared for so long with her first brother. News was rare, and only gotten from her parents since Don had no way of really being able to reach her more directly.

As the car containing her and Colonel Hayes continued along under the desert sky, Sara tuned out Hayes' general chatter, and tried to imagine what was going on back home.

**January 27****th****, 1949 **

"So what do you think?" Edward asked Winry as he leaned against the side of the shiny, black motorcycle that sat in the Elrics' driveway.

"I think you're crazy," Winry laughed, shaking her head as she looked at his grinning face. "Is this some kind of mid-life crisis I wasn't warned about in advance?"

"Not unless you want it to be," Ed chuckled, moving away from the bike and putting his arm around her shoulder. "I just borrowed it from Marcus to give it a little test run. Really, I've thought about getting one for years; fast, light, the wind blowing past."

"Obviously your life has gotten too boring," Winry kissed his cheek. "What do you want to do with this thing?" she asked as they went back in the house.

Ed waggled his eyebrows and spun her as the door closed, pinning Winry up against it, so close his forehead pressed up against hers. "What I want to do," he grinned at her surprised expression, "Is toss you on the back and take off for a few days. Find a little place somewhere outside of town, and spend a few days just you, and me; spoil you rotten with a little fine dining, maybe a little dancing, celebrate how lucky I've been to have _you_ all to myself for so long." It was only two days until their anniversary, and over the years, Ed had kind of stopped caring what other people thought of what he did; but in another way. If he felt like doing something, he didn't care if anyone else thought it was silly, or strange, or even out of character. He wasn't that different really, but he was no longer as self-conscious about some things. It wasn't worth wasting good life worrying about it! "Really though, I'd be happy just to walk along the shore of something scenic and keep you close."

"And for your birthday?" Winry asked, playing along. Ed liked that; when she let him give in an impulse, a whim, and didn't immediately tell him _no_.

"All I want for that," Ed kissed her briefly, "Is to spend all night and all day in bed with this gorgeous blonde I know." He kissed her again. "The one I'm finally starting to think I might really deserve."

"I don't know about that," Winry chuckled, even as she returned his kisses, though she stepped away from the door and slowly moved them down the hallway a few steps. "But you have me anyway." Her expression softened then as she looped her arms around his neck. "Are you really okay with this?" she asked him then. "I mean, you haven't seemed too upset about it."

Ed knew what she meant, and he couldn't help chuckling as he hugged her tightly. "Are you kidding?" he grinned. "I never thought I'd _make_ it to fifty! Hell, Winry, there were days I wasn't sure I would live to be _eighteen_."

"There were days Granny and I didn't believe it either," Winry admitted with a playful smile. "Still, it's quite a milestone, Edward."

"That's why I want to spend it with you," Ed replied, trying to explain how he felt. It was a complicated emotion really; a mix of amazement and relief, firmly stamping down any worries or insecurities he had.

"Hey, Mom, Dad, there's a motorcycle outside!" Ethan grinned as he came bounding in through the door with the contents of the mailbox in his hands.

"I borrowed it from Colonel Kane for a test run," Ed explained, peaking around Winry to look at his son. "Your Mom and I were going to take it for a little spin for a couple of days."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "I get the crazy parents," he teased. "Can I drive it?"

"No." The reply came out in unison and Ed couldn't help laughing.

"Fine," Ethan sighed. "Mail's here. There's letters from Aldon _and_ Sara!"

"I'll take those," Winry practically snatched them out of her son's hand, even before Ed could get to them.

"What do they say?" Ethan asked curiously as he and Ed followed Winry, who sat down on the couch and opened the letter post-marked Fort Briggs!

Ed waited impatiently as Winry scanned the letter silently. "Well are you going to read it?" he asked finally.

"You are so impatient," Winry sighed. "All right." With that, she read through the letter, which talked at length about the types of work they had Aldon doing up at Briggs, what he was learning, the hours they kept. He also noted – with a little pride – that he'd grown in the shoulders from all the work. Ed could imagine. After all, he'd seen the engineers at Briggs work. It was a serious work out keeping up with all that. Aldon ended with the harrowing tale of a recent pipe break and his daring –and foolish – rescue of his best friend. Really, Ed thought, he was proud, and he wouldn't have expected any less of Aldon!

"Interesting," Winry commented when she finished.

"What?" Ed asked, wondering what he had missed.

Winry shrugged. "Well, he didn't mention Cassandra; not once."

That _was_ interesting. Usually there were several lines – or minutes of conversation – devoted to Aldon's _other_ favorite topic of discussion, equal with machinery it seemed these days. "I hope everything's okay," Ed frowned.

"You don't think they broke up do you?" Ethan chimed in.

Ed shrugged. "Not really, but it's Aldon's business. He'll let us know when he feels like it's important." Maybe Aldon was just getting over the _besotted_ part of infatuation. Ed really didn't doubt his son's affections for Cassandra, or how real they were – or hers for him – but even he knew that the giddy beginnings of a relationship changed into something deeper and more meaningful over time, even as the excitement died down into comfortable routine.

"Let's see what Sara has to say," Winry commented, opening the second letter which –unlike the first letter's draft-clear printing lettering – was written out quickly in Sara's looping scrawl of a script. It wasn't as long, but it was efficient. Busy lately, and her next mission had her down into Ishbal where, at least, it was warmer. Summaries of missions, questions about home that she knew wouldn't be answered by mail, and a fervent wish that she could have been home for her birthday, and Ed and Elicia's. But she loved them, and hoped to make it back to Central again before too much longer. "I wish she'd go into a little more detail sometimes on _how _she's doing," Winry commented when she was done reading.

"You know she prefers to discuss personal things face to face," Ed shrugged. His own letters had always been the same way. Their phone conversations – as few as there were lately — were always more meaningful.

"Life elsewhere sounds exciting," Ethan sighed, leaning against the back of the couch.

"Well you'll have plenty of places you could study," Ed pointed out with a shrug, "When the time comes."

"I wish that was sooner," Ethan admitted. "I've still got so much to learn, and things are so… sedate here."

Ed snorted. "That's one way of putting it. Don't tell me you're feeling the need for a little adventure," he grinned at his son, though he had to suppress the part of him that wanted to tell Ethan he couldn't go anywhere else. Ed wasn't ready for all three of his kids to be gone, but he was all too aware that Ethan was fast reaching the age where he probably _would_ be leaving home to learn more about healing alchemy, auto-mail, and medicine. Who he would choose as a primary teacher, Ed really didn't know, but that was a lot of areas to cover!

"Some," Ethan replied without looking embarrassed. "I know you guys aren't making me stay here or anything, but I want to be done with therapy, and general schooling, and do something meaningful."

"You will," Winry replied, surprisingly reasonable – at least, given how emotional she could be about her children – as she smiled. "Who knows; they let Al tag along with your father for years. Maybe the military will let you get a little time with Sara," she suggested, looking at Ed.

"It's possible," Ed replied, though he had to admit that he was surprised _he _hadn't thought of that! It would give Ethan practical experience as an alchemist, and learning about _people_, but keep him with someone they could trust to keep him as safe as he_ could_ be in those kinds of situations. "I'll have a word with Marcus about it."

"Really?" Ethan's eyes lit up.

"I said I would," Ed pointed out. "Though you know it won't be immediately. Sara's not even here after all to ask how she feels about it, and as your alchemy teacher, I won't let you go unless your hand's at a hundred percent." He made the statement as his teacher to make a point. He wasn't trying to be an over-protective father; Ed would have said the same of any student he had.

"I understand," Ethan replied. He stood up then, and stretched. "Do you mind if I go over to Lia's for dinner? Her folks said it was cool."

"Sure," Ed replied. "Just make sure you're not out too late. Your Mom and I are taking a little vacation for a couple of days and you'll be staying over at Al's."

"Okay," Ethan shrugged and headed for the door. "Thanks Dad, Mom!" he called; then they heard the door open and close behind him.

"They're growing up too fast, Ed," Winry said softly after a moment. "Aldon just left this summer, and I can already see Ethan leaving us behind."

Ed put his arm around her shoulder. "Not for a little longer," he assured her. "I talked with Stevenson the other day."

"Voluntarily?" Winry quipped.

"Yes," Ed rolled his eyes. "He agreed that, if Ethan was interested, he could spend some time working at the hospital for him. It'd be basic orderly work at first of course, but he'd be learning a lot, and it would keep him here until we're sure he's ready, and," he added hopefully, "For Sara's schedule to calm down a little so she won't feel burdened by having an enthusiastic teenager along." He hoped she would agree to take him with her. He'd much rather his son go wandering about Amestris, if he went, with someone Ed _trusted._ Though he wouldn't be opposed to another alchemist taking him under his or her wing for a while either if there was a good match. "I'll tell Ethan about the offer when he gets back tonight."

"I like that idea," Winry smiled, and then giggled a moment later. "And we should get packed."

Now there was an idea. "Nah," Ed grinned, teasing as he kissed her. "Who needs clothes?"

**February 2****nd****, 1949 **

Alphonse had been happy to have Ethan stay with them while Ed and Winry took off for a little _them_ time. He had laughed when Ed had borrowed Marcus Kane's motorcycle, but he hadn't been entirely surprised to see Ed's '_rebellious'_ streak coming out again. His brother had been enough trouble as a teenager. If he'd had the time, without the responsibilities that kept him preoccupied, he might've been more of a hellion!

Still, the last few years Ed had really learned to appreciate life in new ways, Al thought. Of course, life and death situations had a way of helping people take stock of what they had, but he was proving once more that nothing could hold Edward down if he refused to let it. Watching him live every day to its fullest extent was something that actually gave Al a very good feeling. It was as if an invisible weight that had burdened his brother for most of his life had been lifted; one that Al hadn't realized was still there for all that time.

The truth, Al realized, was that Ed probably considered it living each day as if it were his last. There would be no more regretting time not spent with the people Ed loved, or things left undone. And it had _only_ taken Ed fifty years to reach that point.

"You're contemplative this evening," Elicia chuckled as she came up behind him. "Don't tell me washing dishes is that interesting."

Al looked down at the soapy water in front of him and laughed. "Sorry, no. Quite the opposite. I was just thinking I hope Ed and Winry are having a good time."

"No doubt," Elicia smiled, kissing his cheek as she picked up a towel and started drying the dishes Al had already washed. "Those two could have fun in an empty closet."

"As long as they were both in there," Al sniggered. "They're worse now than when they first got married."

"Is that so bad?" Elicia shrugged, putting away the plates. "They're lucky to still have each other, with everything they've had to deal with. Besides," she winked at him, her hip brushing lightly against his as she crossed the kitchen. "Good marriages are like that."

As Al opened his mouth to reply there was a yowl and a hiss from the living room, followed by frantic barking from Bounce, who had come to stay along with Ethan.

"Mom!" Alyse called out. "Bounce is chasing the cats!"

"They're up on the mantle," Will added. "Damn… they're going for the shelves!"

"Don't worry Aunt Elicia," Ethan called out. "I can fix anything they break!"

"Well that's reassuring," Elicia sighed. "Aren't you going to do something about this Alphonse?"

"Like what?" Al asked innocently, smiling. "Things will sort themselves out."

"They're _your_ cats!" Elicia snorted, but Al knew she was just teasing him.

Something crashed in the other room.

"What was that?" Al called out.

"Just a lamp." Will replied. "Don't worry, it's not broken!"

"Much," Alyse quipped.

Elicia gave Al a _look_ and he put down the dishes. "All right," he smiled. "I'll go do a little damage control." He walked into the other room and surveyed the chaos. Bounce was standing under the fireplace, wagging her tail at two kittens who were hissing and spitting up a storm and swatting down at her, even though there was no way they could reach.

Will was righting the lamp, Alyse was putting magazines back on the coffee table, and Ethan was fixing a tear in the couch with a quick bit of alchemy.

"Ethan, please put the dog in the back yard," Al said as he crossed the room and held out his hands to the cats.

"Got it, Uncle Al," Ethan sighed as he grabbed Bounce up in his arms. "Come on you; that's enough trouble for one day."

"All right you two, that's enough. She's a guest. You're going upstairs." Al plucked both of the cats off the mantle and carried them upstairs. Immediately the kittens – brother and sister grey tabbies that Al had confused his kids by naming them Orestes and Elektra – snuggled into his arms, still glaring behind him until he shut them in the bedroom. "Anything damaged?" he asked when he came back in.

"Not really," Will shook his head. "At least, nothing we haven't already fixed," he added with a sheepish smile.

Al shook his head, and sighed. "Let's try and keep the chaos down okay?" His statement was followed by a chorus of 'yes, Dad' 'yes, Uncle Al,' and he nodded. "Good. I'd like to have a house left tomorrow!"

* * *

Ethan watched his uncle go back into the kitchen; then relaxed. "Man, that was a mess," he dropped back onto the couch, feeling more than a little guilty. After all, Bounce was _his_ dog.

"Oh it's all right," Alyse chuckled, sitting down next to him. "Dad's not even mad."

"The cats knock stuff over even without someone to blame," Will added. "So, you're sure your Dad has no idea about the plan right?"

"None whatsoever," Ethan grinned. He knew his Dad wasn't expecting anything big, especially not when he had specifically planned to be out of town on his actual birthday. But none of their family friends had been willing to let the occasion go by without some way to mark it more permanently. Ethan knew, and so did Winry – the plan was to surprise Ed when they got home to their house – but he knew _Mom _could keep a secret!

"So you have to finish showing us the surprise you're working on," Alyse shoved him.

"Now that the cats won't run over it," Will agreed.

Ethan grinned, feeling more than a little proud of himself as he pulled the roll of paper back out from under the table and rolled it out, weighing it down with coasters on each end. It held an incomplete transmutation circle. "Colonel Kane showed me how to do a basic one of these, but you can customize it for different effects and stuff."

"So this will really do fireworks in your back yard?" Alyse grinned.

"If it turns out right," Will smirked.

"It will!" Ethan replied confidently. "_I'm_ doing it."

"No need to be humble about it," Will chuckled, though he leaned over the circle the same way Alyse did. Really Ethan wanted his cousins' opinions on it. Both Will and Alyse studied alchemy, though their areas of interest were different. Alyse really wasn't meant to be a fighter, even Ethan agreed she didn't have the temperament, though she and Will sparred with him sometimes; the legacy of their fathers' teacher. "So this is the part that makes it work; how do you modify it for particular effects?"

"Well, a lot of it happens in the transmutation itself," Ethan admitted. "So I have to know what I want to do, but there are ways of simplifying it by personalizing the circle." He pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket with several symbols and ideas sketched on it. "These are some of the options and they can be inserted in these areas," He pointed to several blank spaces around and within the existing lines. He _really_ wanted to have this done by the time his folks got home in two days. His Dad was really going to be surprised!

* * *

Alphonse watched the kids bent over the table animatedly talking about alchemy, and couldn't help smiling. The ages were a little off –though the height difference was about right - but it reminded him a lot of when he and Ed used to do alchemy together as kids. Sometimes, early on before Mom had died, Winry had watched though she hadn't found the details particularly interesting. He enjoyed listening to them plotting their part of Ed's birthday surprise.

"It'll be your turn next year," Elicia pointed out with a playful grin as she joined him in the doorway. "Though you don't look it."

"Neither does Ed really," Al countered. "I have an unfair advantage in that area."

"Not that I'm complaining," Elicia smiled. "Though with all this planning for _Edward's_ surprise," she commented in that too-casual way that Al had learned to take note of. "Are we doing anything at all tomorrow?"

"Oh that's right," Al smiled with exaggerated surprise. "It's your birthday too isn't it?"

"As if you could ever forget," Elicia laughed.

"You're right, I couldn't," Al laughed. No, he most definitely would never forget that particular snowy day! "What I thought we might do," he said, slipping an arm around her slender waist, "Was go see that art exhibit you were talking about at the museum, and then go someplace romantic for dinner."

"That sounds delightful," Elicia smiled. "The kids will probably enjoy the museum."

"And we can ditch them for dinner," Al smirked, though he was partially kidding. He _was_ planning on letting them stay home with take-out of some kind. "Not that I think they'll mind much."

"I don't think so," Elicia agreed. "I'm a little surprised Ethan didn't ask for your help with this project."

"Orchestrating this whole thing is my job," Al smiled. "I think that's enough. Besides, Marcus is the fireworks expert, and Ethan really wants to work out the rest of the details on his own. I'm sure whatever he comes up with is going to be good. He's a natural."

"More of one than the two of you?" Elicia asked.

"Same level," Al shrugged. He knew that he and his brother were not infallible; they weren't _the best eve_r. Anyone could be beaten, outclassed, or more talented; a lot of it might depend on the day. Many of their former students were at least as good as they were. In a direct contest though, it didn't really matter by that point. Once an alchemist specialized, it was a lot harder to make direct comparisons. Even in a fight, he or Ed _could_ lose, but it wasn't to any of their students yet, or the rank newbies. "He's picked an area of specialization that's not fully explored; and even though that makes it harder I think we're going to see a lot of breakthrough in medical alchemy here when Ethan really gets rolling." It was an area that only a few had studied, and no one had managed to fully incorporate the healing methods reportedly common in Xing. Ethan was determined to take those studies as far as they would go and do his own research.

"Given what he wants to do with it," Elicia commented softly. "I hope he succeeds."

"Oh he will," Al replied. There was no doubt in his mind about it really. Ethan was his father's son.

**February 4****th****, 1949**

Winry was glad _she_ was expecting the surprise party that had taken over her house while she and Ed were otherwise occupied. Ed was at first surprised, then annoyed, then reluctantly amused to find that his friends had been entirely unwilling to let him turn fifty without a serious bash!

"We never thought you'd make it," Breda laughed, slapping Ed on the back.

"Why's that?" Ed asked. "You didn't have faith in my skills?"

"Nah," Havoc shook his head. "We just weren't sure we'd be able to let you live this long without strangling your irritating ass." He and Grace had taken time out of their travels specifically for the occasion. Winry had been glad to hear when the two of them had gotten married a couple of years ago.

"Gee," Ed had smirked. "Thanks guys, I feel so loved."

In reality though, Winry knew Ed was enjoying himself. He liked the attention but, more importantly, it was reassurance that he was never really going to have to be alone.

Elicia and Gracia had already prepared a lot of food, but there was still more work to do, and Winry excused herself from the jovial male-dominated commentary to join her friends in the kitchen. Stereotypical perhaps, but definitely safer than letting military _officers_ cook party food. At least, most of this particular group! They gabbed as they worked, as usual.

Roy and Riza arrived late, apologizing for having been detained, right as most of the girls left the kitchen to put out plates of food on the tables set up outside while Winry was finished up the fruit. There simply wasn't room in the house with so many guests. Fortunately, the kids – teenagers and smaller alike – had already been relegated out there for their own safety.

"So where is Roy?" Winry asked when Riza came into the kitchen.

"Over there with the others, trying to get Edward drunk," Riza said as she picked up a knife and started helping with the apples.

Winry glanced out of the kitchen and over at the dining table, where most of the guys were gathered around, being_ more_ than a little rowdy. It looked as raucous as any group of twenty-somethings on a Saturday night, though she knew it was probably tamer, if just as enthusiastic. "Do they know that Ed has a trick for neutralizing alcoholic beverages?"

"I suspect they've forgotten if they do," Riza sighed. "I hope they just remember they aren't as resilient as they used to be."

"If not, we have plenty of living room furniture and a guest room," Winry smirked, shrugging a little. Riza did not look amused. "Is something wrong?"

A small smile crossed Riza's lips then faded as she sighed. "I'm worried about Maes," she admitted softly, her eyes never leaving the fruit she was chopping. "He never calls, and we almost never get a letter anymore. If we do, it's usually brief; whatever his last mission was and where he's going next; information we can get easily enough here."

"Do you think something's wrong?" Winry asked, frowning. Maes had always been close to his parents, especially Riza. That was worrying.

"I'm sorry, but I think that it has to do with Sara," Riza replied after several long seconds of silence. "The last personal thing he told me was that he hadn't had a chance to talk to her before she left Central."

Winry remembered the altercation last summer well enough. That whole thing had been a mess on Sara's end too, and Maes had just been a compounding factor. "They both shipped out pretty fast," she remembered. Maes had been back a couple of times, but never for long. "Of course, if his work has been anything like Sara's since then, it may be lack of opportunity to write and call more than anything else," she suggested, hoping it might assuage Riza's obvious worry.

"I hope so, Winry," Riza replied. "He was unsettled and moody when he left. He's more accepting of his own emotions that Roy is sometimes, and _usually_ that's a good thing." A silent _but_ hung in the air.

"Riza," Winry put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "There's something about this that's upsetting you more than usual. Did you hear something?"

Riza nodded. "Two things," she admitted softly. "The first was last week; a complaint sent to Central about Maes' behavior at Western Command." Winry knew Maes had been sent to West City most recently, though not the details of the mission. "It involved a lack of punctuality and a report of him getting in a fight with another officer in a bar."

"Maes?" Winry stared at her, more than a little startled. "Did they say what the fight was about?"

"It was over a girl," Riza explained, shaking her head. "Maes started it. Apparently it's happened before."

No wonder Riza was worried. Sure, Maes was popular with girls, a bit of a flirt, but always innocently; he was a handsome young man after all, but well behaved. His reputation had always been immaculate. This was like Winry finding out that _Aldon_ was starting bar fights; it just didn't sound believable. "What was the other bit of news?"

"He was injured in a fire fight this morning with an arsonist they were tracking down," Riza put the last of the apples in the bowl and went to wash the knife, turning her back momentarily to Winry. "Not too badly, thank goodness, just a graze wound to the forearm, but he's being shipped back to Central for a while."

"Well, that's good then," Winry replied. "His coming home I mean. Maybe now you'll have a chance to talk to him and find out what's going on." Maybe Sara would come through and they could resolve their argument too.

Riza actually smiled as she turned and faced Winry again. "You're probably right. Maybe I'm just over reacting. He's not a little boy anymore, and I have to accept that sometimes he's his father's son."

Winry chuckled. "That he is. Come on. Let's go join the rest of the party before half the guests are too drunk to enjoy the food."

Fortunately, that didn't happen. For all the bravado and bragging, the crowd of mostly forty-and-older men were not as foolish as they used to be!

The celebration culminated with a bang, literally! Everyone gathered outside to watch the little alchemy-based fireworks display Ethan had worked out. Winry had known Ethan was working on _something_ but the final product was impressive!

The explosions of color above their home weren't really explosives based on powdered charges, but alchemical manipulation of the air around them, or so Winry understood it. The colors came from the elements that Ethan had gathered for that purpose. Using alchemy, the explosions came in different colors, sizes, and shapes. They were less dangerous too, so setting them off right above the house and everyone's heads wasn't potential for disaster!

While a lot of them were just pretty explosions of light in a variety of colors and patterns and timing, the last one definitely took the cake; a rapid firing of tiny red bursts that formed the outline of _'the crest'_ for a solid fifteen seconds. There was a burst of applause at the end and, in the glow from the light above, Winry watched Ed give his son a very big hug!


	4. SpringSummer '49

**March 26****th****, 1949**

"Five in the corner pocket," Ed called as he sank his next shot easily. Then he moved around the table. "Eight ball in the side."

"You win again," Al laughed as Ed made the shot with little trouble.

"Yeah well, I'm not getting much competition tonight," Ed admitted with a smirk then glanced over at Roy who shrugged from his seat and sipped his drink. "Though I'm enjoying the company." The last didn't have its usual sarcastic bite though. Roy was the one who had called Ed and Al and invited them out for one of there still-occasional games of pool that had resumed with his retirement. They weren't _top secret_ anymore, but then they didn't have to be. "What's up Roy?" he finally asked right out as he and Al sat down at the table. Roy had been quiet, sullen really, all evening and even his sarcastic quips had been less frequent than usual. Ed was actually worried about him. Roy hid it better at work, but there was something definitely wrong when Roy Mustang actually _looked_ his age! In truth though, Ed had his suspicions.

Roy drank again, looking for all the world like he didn't want to say what he had obviously come here to. "I'm worried about Maes," he said finally.

Ed exchanged a look with Al and knew they had both expected that answer. "We've heard the gossip," Ed admitted, sipping from his own glass. It was just club soda tonight; he'd driven over through the pouring rain when Roy had called unexpectedly. "I take it this means a lot of it's true."

Roy nodded. "He's been different for a while. I couldn't rationalize it at first, but now that he's home it's a lot more evident." He shook his head, staring into his glass. "Riza was worried when he stopped calling. He almost stopped writing all together. I told her he was just busy, he had other things to focus on besides writing home."

"That's true though usually," Al pointed out rationally. "It's the nature of the job."

"And the people who tend to take it," Ed added. "Present company included." He and Al hadn't written home for four _years_ when they left Resembool. Now Ed felt guilty about it, but at the time had thought almost nothing of it. His one attempt at a letter home had been pre-empted by Winry's showing up in Central.

Roy sighed. "I know. So that's what I kept telling myself."

"But it's not the truth," Ed hazarded.

"He's a lot more distant," Roy admitted, looking up at him. "Maes moved into the barracks on base finally after he got back. He only comes over if we invite him most of the time. He's dropped by only once or twice on his own initiative, but otherwise we can almost never get a hold of him unless it's at HQ during the day. He's out every night."

"New girlfriend?" Al suggested.

Ed watched as Roy shook his head. "More like several," Roy replied. "He was always so well behaved, so calm and put together, like Riza. I forget sometimes that he's my son too."

"Which explains why he's starting to get your reputation," Ed said what he knew they were all thinking.

Roy winced, and Ed knew he'd hit the mark. "I could live with that, if it were that simple. It doesn't bother me that some of the junior officers don't like him, that he enjoys showing young ladies a good time. It's his attitude about it, and the frequency that make me uneasy."

"So I take it you have talked to him," Ed asked, looking for clarification.

"I tried," Roy fell silent for several moments. "He was very cavalier about the whole thing and told me I was over-reacting and asked me if I even remembered being his age and being wanted by women."

"Ouch," Al winced, and Ed agreed. That _really_ didn't sound like Maes! "That's unkind." Especially, Ed thought, as something to say to Roy of all people. There was no way Maes was unaware of Roy's days as a younger officer. The statement had obviously been meant to sting. The boy just wasn't naturally that callous.

"He sure sounds like you," Ed replied with a shake of his head. "And that's troublesome."

"Tell me about it." Roy's lack of consternation at Ed's statement was just as disturbing. There was normally – pun intended – more fire to him. "I don't like it; the change bothers me. I just wish I understood the cause."

"Then at least we'd know if it was something normal or something that can be fixed," Al nodded, looking contemplative.

Ed had a sudden thought, and it was one he didn't like, but remembering past conversations with Sara and Winry he couldn't discount it, though it made him very uncomfortable. "Is he still upset about Sara?" he asked.

Roy rolled his eyes and snorted dismissively. "Still upset about a fight that happened more than six months ago?"

"In public, after he told her he was interested in her," Ed replied pointedly. "I don't know about you Roy, but I'd find that embarrassing and pretty hard to forget."

"No offense Ed," Roy replied. "But no woman is worth that kind of long term distraction; not even your daughter."

Ed scowled. He hated it when Roy got stubborn. The man wasn't listening to him! But then, some things were old habit. "I'll make sure to tell Riza you said that," he replied harshly. "I'm sure she'd find that pretty interesting coming from you."

Roy stopped mid-retort, and turned his head, a flash of guilt and annoyance in his eyes. "He's just a boy."

"Which makes him that much more vulnerable," Ed kept pushing. "Though I don't recall you making that excuse for _me_ when that was true. Maes isn't a kid; he's a grown man and a State Alchemist. You wouldn't waffle on this if he was anybody else."

"So what would you recommend?" Roy asked sardonically. "Since you seem to be the expert on the subjects of denial and repressed teenage sexual desires."

"Watch it, Mustang," Ed snarled; then forcibly reined in his temper. "I didn't say I had a solution. I just said I think that might be a cause. It doesn't make much sense to me as a reaction either, but then I've never exactly had the experience of being turned down by a woman I was interested in." Not that he had ever particularly_ wanted_ that honor. "And if it's that distinctively _not_ a normal behavior pattern then that implies that the problem's emotional. Right?" he glanced at Al then. His brother was the one who was better read up on psychology.

"Usually," Al agreed. "It's not like Maes just suddenly decided he was interested either." They had all known – except Sara apparently – that Maes had a massive crush on her for years. "It's very possible that it's a lot more than just a childhood crush, Roy. How would you have taken it if Riza had reacted that way?"

Roy scowled at both of them for a moment then drained his glass. "Well shit."

**June 18****th****, 1949**

Aldon didn't bother to hide the appreciation in his eyes as he watched Cassie and Kit splashing at each other in the little rocky stream near Briggs. Cassie's rich brown hair had grown out just long enough that she had started plaiting it back against her head, with the short braid tail reaching to above her shoulder blades. She was wearing fitted black knit pants rolled up to keep the hems dry, and a white collared shirt that ended down near her hips and nicely accented her slim figure, the sleeves rolled up past her elbows. Kit wore a similar ensemble, but the shirt was much tighter in the bust and a bright shade of green, the pants a darker green – she always seemed to be in bold colors. Aldon definitely preferred _his_ girlfriend's subtler tastes!

It had taken a little doing, but he and Ollie and both girls had managed to get the same day off so they could enjoy the spring that had finally come to the mountains around Briggs! They had decided to test the rumors that there was still gold and the occasional gemstone in some of the streams up by long abandoned older mines and do a little panning just for fun. Really, it was an excuse to breathe some fresh hour and spend a few hours in real sunlight!

Fortunately, they had been blessed with a sunny day, cool, but not overly so. Warm enough that the cold water felt good on bare feet, if still a little brisk! Aldon's shoulder had healed up months ago, the last muscle twinges fading with the warmer weather, and he felt _good._

A small spray of cold water in his face made Aldon jump, and he noticed Ollie smirking at him. "You'll never find your fortune staring at Cassie's backside all day," he laughed. "Or maybe I'm wrong in thinking what kind of treasure you were really after in suggesting this little excursion."

Aldon blushed, but rolled his eyes. "I don't need an excuse for that," he pointed out. After the first time, there had certainly been others, and almost certainly Cassie would end up sleeping in his bed instead of going back to hers. Some nights they would fall asleep together without doing anything other than snuggle up innocently and talk until they fell asleep – with their schedules that was the case more often than not – but Aldon was finding it harder to sleep on the nights he slept alone than when he had Cassie snuggled up against him on his narrow one-man bunk.

"True enough," Ollie grinned. "But if the girls find something and we don't they'll never let us live it down."

"We're not going to get rich out here," Aldon laughed as he crouched down and returned to panning. The girls had settled down as well and gotten back to _business _though they were still chatting animatedly. "Are you making any progress with Kit?" For some reason, his friend was still entirely absorbed in pursuit of the bubbly, energetic red-head.

Ollie sighed but grinned anyway, his frustration vanishing in a moment. "I think I'm wearing her down," he replied. They were all good friends at this point, but it was obvious that Ollie's pursuit-because-she-was-playing-hard-to-get had turned into more on Ollie's part.

"Well that doesn't sound promising," Aldon chuckled even as he smiled sympathetically. "If you two ever stop playing games, maybe you'll get somewhere."

"You think?" Ollie gave him a slightly skeptical look. "Do me a favor and tell her that. I think she's just scared of getting close to anyone that way you know? Maybe she had a bad breakup or something, I don't know, but she plays the flirt and she's a lot of fun; it's never serious though."

"All the more reason to cut out the games," Aldon replied. "Maybe she just thinks you're playing; that you're not sincere."

Ollie snorted, but he was obviously listening. "Wow, you start getting laid and suddenly you're a relationship expert."

"Hardly," Aldon shook his head. "I just pay attention."

"All right," Ollie shrugged. "Maybe I'll give it a try. Nothing else has worked so far." He sifted through the bits of rock and such in his pan, then started over again. "Though I think you should know," he commented a minute later. "I've found a way to pay you back."

"I told you," Aldon sighed, shaking his head. "You don't owe me anything." The sand and bits of rock in his pan held nothing of interest. He dumped it out and started over again; glad he wasn't relying on this as a way of making a living!

"Wait till you hear the offer before you go turning it down," Ollie chuckled, sounding rather smug. "I had a word with the guy in charge of lodgings. There's a two roomer open."

"Your ditching our room is thanking me?" Aldon looked up at him, slightly amused, but also confused.

"It's not for me, idiot," Ollie laughed. "For you and Cassie; don't tell me you wouldn't like the privacy and a bed actually meant to hold two people? No worries about getting walked in on or putting anyone else out."

"That would be nice," Aldon admitted, sure he was blushing from the top of his head down to his feet at the suggestion of _officially_ moving in together. They had actually discussed getting married at some point, but in the future, maybe in a couple of years when life was a little more settled. Hell, he hadn't even actually proposed! Though he thought about it often enough. The idea gave him stomach flutters; both nervousness and excitement. Cassie was his only serious girlfriend, but he couldn't imagine falling for anyone else. "I'll have to talk to Cassie about it."

"Well I figured as much," Ollie's grin just got wider as if he had known what Aldon's response would be, which was kind of pathetic really. At least_ he_ certainly thought so. "As soon as you make up your mind about it, it's yours, but only if you do so soon."

Aldon understood that. The two-room places meant a separate bedroom and sitting area, not including the fact that they also had private bathrooms. Except for the lack of a kitchen, it was almost a complete apartment; and the beds _were_ bigger. "I'll ask her about it tonight," he promised.

"I'll start packing your things," Ollie chuckled, bending over his pan again.

Aldon chuckled a little too as he picked through the pan in his hand, sifting out the wet bits of stone. Ollie seemed so sure and, Aldon had to admit, as big a step as it was – and how it would pretty much openly declare to anyone who hadn't already figured it out that they were more than serious – he also thought that Cassie would say yes if he asked her.

His eyes caught a glimpse of something in the pan. His attention turning more fully to the work at hand, Aldon sifted more gently, uncovering what he had spotted moments before. Carefully he picked out a very small emerald from the bits of dirt and grit; it shone in the sunlight, almost exactly the color of Cassie's eyes.

Aldon didn't really believe in signs or portents, but for once, he liked to think that maybe this was one.

**July 22****nd****, 1949**

After Ishbal, Sara had stopped in Resembool for a couple of days to give herself a needed rest. It wasn't home, but since her family had gone out there several times over the years, it was almost as good. Of course she had been recognized on sight and there had been lots of well wishes for her and to send on to her family, especially her parents and uncle. Sara was glad for it though; it gave her something else of interest to put in a letter home. There were words from the Ishballans Rick and Leo as well. It would be a full letter.

She stopped by the grave yard to pay her respects to the grandparents she had never known. Still, the way her parents spoke about Tricha Elric – whose name Sara carried as her middle name – and her first-name sake Sara, and Urey Rockbell, she felt like she knew them and wished they could have met and talked. She thanked them, quietly, and almost cried when she left flowers on Great-Granny Pinako's grave. She was the only one Sara had been fortunate enough to ever meet. There was also now a small memorial to her other grandfather, Hohenheim, that her father – of all people – had transmuted with his own hands on one of their visits. It was no fancier than any of the gravestones; but that he had done it at all had been a surprise. Her mother's reaction, and Uncle Al's – both full families had come on that trip – had been her biggest clue as to how monumental a statement that was, how indicative of how much her father had grown and changed and perhaps, Al suggested, it was Ed's apology and thanks. No one had asked Ed about it at the time as far as Sara knew, but she resolved to ask when she did finally get home.

Sara slept in the old house and took the time to write and mail letters to her parents and Aldon, and brief ones to Franz and Mars – both carefully _just friendly_ in their cases – before heading on. She already had another mission; she wouldn't be coming home just yet. Only this time she was headed north-east again. Kane had actually apologized on the phone for giving her yet another assignment, but Sara had told him not to worry about it. She could handle it.

Besides, from Hayes – who liked to talk a lot – and running into other State Alchemists over her travels, Sara still got the gossip from Central. Her reaction to what she heard though told her she wasn't ready to go back to Central just yet. The rumors about Maes Mustang bothered and irritated her; what made her confused. Sara hadn't entirely determined _why_ Maes' behavior with women irritated her so much, aside from the fact that most men who behaved that way pissed her off. That her friend would do the same infuriated her! She'd always thought he had more sense. The flirting had been bad enough, but the rumors that came now bothered her a lot more, especially after her own brief interlude.

Since when had Maes started actually sleeping around?

**August 6****th****, 1949 **

It was a quiet night in the bar. Maes Mustang nursed his beer and looked around. On most nights where he hadn't already scored a date earlier that day, if he felt like going out – it was rare he couldn't find someone – he came here. More often than not some lonely girl would be more than happy to talk to him, maybe go out for dinner instead of sit here all night.

Part of him was disgusted by just how easy it was; all he had to do practically was smile and ask. Of course, that had been the case in school too. Now though, he had discovered that about two in every ten was willing to do more than just eat out and allow a few kisses. If he wanted a little all-night company, he knew who to ask out on a date. A nice meal and good conversation was hardly even a price really if it meant a few hours of distraction from his thoughts. He appreciated the girls, whether or not they slept with him, for their individual personalities and interests. However, none of them was Sara; but really, wasn't that the point? Not a single word from her in a full year. In his mind, that definitely counted as rejection. It was time to move on.

Maes was scanning the room to see if there was anyone even worth asking out tonight, when a familiar and not particularly welcome figure dropped onto the bar stool two spots down and ordered a drink, laughing at something one of the guys' he'd come in with had said; Calvin Fischer. Oh, Cal was _all right_ Maes supposed; he was a decent alchemist; but he made no bones about the fact he wasn't overly discriminating when it came to women, and he and Maes had never really had the same philosophies on life. Cal was always telling him to lighten up and stop with the 'perfect little wind-up-toy officer' routine, and Maes though Cal was a tasteless cad with little class and no appreciation for the girls he seemed to set out to sleep with just because he could. Cal needled him and got on his nerves at every opportunity.

He cursed silently as Cal noticed him and grinned in that way of his that was just a little _too_ friendly. "Hey there, Mustang," he said casually. "I heard you saw a little action out in West City."

As if that wasn't a loaded statement. Maes chose to keep the conversation on the work level. "You could call getting shot action," he commented, sipping his drink and hoping Cal would get the hint and go away. He wasn't in the mood for bantering with the egotist. "Wasn't much of a wound," he shrugged casually. It had hurt like hell, but his arm had healed up in a few weeks. Maes expected he'd be handed another mission soon enough. That was good. He needed to get out of Central. It was harder here to keep his mind on business, especially with little to do other than paperwork while he healed.

"Funny, Firebrand," Cal chuckled. "There are some pretty sweet little honeys around Western Command from what I hear, though I haven't been fortunate enough to get sent out that way recently. I hear the gardens are lovely too; lots of flowers worth picking."

Maes felt his face going red. Cal was trying to irritate him; he knew that; he always did. Maes had done the same to him on occasion. It wasn't a new game, but he was pushing hard tonight, hitting what he knew would be the most sensitive subject. "I was too busy to do much sight-seeing," he replied.

"I'm sure you were," Cal laughed aloud. "At least it's warmer out there. I've been up north – east and west- for a lot of it. Oh," his eyes lit up then and he grinned at Maes. "I ran into a friend of yours a while back."

"Oh really?" Maes didn't really much care who Cal talked to. Obviously he got his gossip from somewhere.

"Don't sound so disinterested," Cal smirked. "I'll bet ten thousand sens you haven't heard a word out of the Twilight Alchemist since she left Central."

Now that was a sum; Maes was almost tempted to lie, but he suspected his face gave him away. Well, Sara had been up that way he recalled hearing, and they had been classmates and passed the State Exam the same year. "So why are you telling me?"

Cal shrugged. "I thought you might like to know she was okay. At least, last I saw her, that was months ago. Too bad," he added with a little grin as he drank. "She made one of the worst missions I've seen more than bearable."

He _couldn't_ be insinuating what it sounded like. Maes scowled. "What do you mean?"

"No need to get hostile, Mustang," Cal's grin turned smug though. "Though I can see how she got under your skin so easily. She's such a giving, _passionate_ person," he accented the second adjective, giving it more weight.

Damn it! He was dancing around the subject with phrases like that. "What did you do to her, Fischer?"

"_To_?" Cal asked. "I didn't do anything _to_ her. _With_ now, that's a different story." There was no mistaking his tone this time. "I have to admit, while she's not my usual preference that fiery personality of hers makes for one heck of a night. Combined with _her_ body, well," he shrugged and drank. "That's one serious win of a combination."

Maes was floored. It had been torment enough that he couldn't get Sara's image out of his mind; she followed him to bed at night, and greeted him every morning – at least by the time he'd gotten out of the shower if not earlier. It was enough to drive a man mad; and now the very idea of Cal Fischer putting his hands on Sara – he didn't want to think about the rest – made his blood boil! "You're an ass, Whitewater."

"Is that the best you can do?" Cal asked casually. "Don't get so uptight, Mustang. It's not like I forced her to do anything she didn't want to." There was a knowing glint in his eye. "And it's not like anyone's got a claim on her. Sara's too independent to put up with that isn't she?"

"What would you know about her?" Maes snapped. The statement was true, but coming from Cal Fischer it made him want to punch the man's face in just that much more!

"Obviously a few things you don't," Cal didn't seem upset by Maes' ire in the slightest. He finished his drink and looked at his friends. "Come on guys, there's pool tables open in the back. How about a game?"

That was it? Maes hated just being dismissed. "We're not done here yet," he countered angrily.

"Oh?" Cal looked back at him. "And here I thought you wanted me to just leave you alone. Catch you later, Mustang. If I see Twilight again, I'll tell her hi for you."

Maes didn't dare start something in here, not this close to HQ, but he wasn't drunk, and he really didn't need to get into more trouble. He swallowed his pride – it stuck in his throat – and went back to his beer.

Why the hell would Sara have _slept with_ Cal Fischer? As far as Maes knew, they were civil to each other but not even friends. It just seemed so inconceivable he was having trouble wrapping his mind around it. Sara hated fakes and flirts; they annoyed her… didn't they? She'd complained about it, even when she teased him about his flirting with girls in high school.

He had been, in this back of his mind, a little worried about what she'd have to say to him the next time they met. Maes hadn't exactly been celibate. Not that he'd been looking for it at first; but one date had ended up with him taking a rather willing girl up on her offer. For a few hours, Maes had completely forgotten his misery and Sara. That had been an unexpected perk, and worth it. They had gone out a few more times, but then she was off after someone else, and Maes had decided simply not to take it personally. Girls like her weren't the staying type anyway. So he had just moved on; not necessarily _looking_ for girls with that inclination, but he certainly hadn't turned them down.

But apparently Sara might not care as much as he'd thought. Not if her own standards were _that_ low. Maes was a little surprised, even after how long it had been since they had talked, just how much it hurt to know that she had actually chosen someone else instead of him, and that someone wasn't even someone she had _stayed _with. Cal had made that pretty clear from the nature of his conversation. It had just been a fling to him, nothing more. Maes would have loved to dismiss the entire thing as a lie; but that was the problem. As much as he disliked the man, Cal had a reputation for being almost brutally honest.

Well, if that was Sara, maybe he really shouldn't be wasting his time mourning the loss of his daydreams and his best friend. Was she really worth it? Maes ordered another drink and looked around the bar one more time. As he did so, a tall brunette that was all legs – and very short miniskirt – stepped inside and came towards the bar. Maes caught her eye, and she gave him a once-over and then smiled, heading his direction.

Well, it looked like tonight wasn't going to be a total wash after all!


	5. Fall '49

October 14th, 1949

**October 14****th****, 1949**

Aldon folded the blueprints that had been lying on the table in the sitting area and put them back up on the shelf for the time being. It was his day off but winter came early up here, as he had been reminded by the light snowfall that had hit them a couple of days ago; a sign of things to come. So even though it was _technically_ his day off, there was little enough to do. Cassie had to work and that meant Aldon had the day to himself. He'd enjoyed it for the most part; sleeping in, taking a long, leisurely shower, and then working on some of his own projects to fill the time. It had been months since he had moved past basic maintenance work and since then each day had been a challenge, a new learning experience, and he loved every moment of it! Or well, most of them. Not everything about a job could be fun after all, but Aldon had no problem with most physical labor. Now they had him learning the design elements of a lot of what made Briggs unique from other structures.

Aldon leaned back in his chair, putting his arms behind his head and just enjoying the quiet. The little two-room quarters were clean and spacious – at least when compared to the usual two-person-to-a-room one room plus bathroom rooming situation. The quiet was testimony to the fact that their neighbors on either side had work. Inside Briggs this far down there was no windows, but that made things warmer really, and it was hardly dreary. The light was good and Cassie had somehow made the place feel like a home. One corner held her art supplies and canvas with an unfinished piece on the easel, the other the one nice easy chair in the place. No one really rated an actual couch. The table was in the middle of the room with four chairs.

They did have an electric heating element on top of one of the low bookshelves that they could use to make tea and coffee. Aldon had rigged it up himself, in the interest of making sure Cassie didn't freeze! This winter promised to be as early, long, and cold as the last, and already she was borrowing his sweaters and put extra blankets on the bed. She'd already caught one pretty bad cold. Though as usual she smiled, told him not to worry, and insisted she was fine. But this one had her tired, dragging by the end of her shifts. She'd come in most evenings and go straight to bed after dinner. At least the worst of it seemed over. The coughing and sneezing had subsided, and it was more of a sniffle.

The door clicked open and Aldon opened his eyes glancing sideways at the door to find Cassie entering. "You're off early," he smiled, sitting up.

"Not really," Cassie shook her head, smiling apologetically. "There's been a request for some medical aid in the village across the ridge; they're running short on medicines. Apparently I'm not the only one with a cold," she chuckled. "Doctor Hassen asked a couple of us to go and make sure they don't need anything else. I'll be home later tonight." She crossed the room and kissed him tenderly.

Aldon caught her hand as she tried to slip away. "Are you sure you should be going?" he asked, a little concerned. "It's awfully bitter up there, and you've been sick."

"Oh, that," Cassie shrugged, though she was clearly touched by his concern "Hassen cleared me for it. My cold's almost gone and we'll be going by car; it won't be a long trip."

"I know you like to play tough," Aldon chuckled, standing up so he could kiss her _properly_. "But you've been dragging in here every night and passing out on the bed you've been so tired." He was just glad she had finally been moved to more regular day shifts instead of afternoons and evenings. At least they had the same work hours now for the most part. "Did you mention that to Hassen when he asked you to go?" Cassie didn't like being treated like she was some delicate flower despite the fact that the winter climate definitely did not agree with her physically.

Cassie nodded. "I did," she replied, her voice softer as she fidgeted in his arms. "And he said that had nothing to do with my cold." She smiled shyly up at him then, her lip caught in her teeth. "I'm pregnant, Don."

Something in Aldon's head decided that was a good moment to break. He stared at her for several seconds as he tried to absorb her words, for the meaning to hit. Pregnant. How the hell did…well no, he knew _exactly_ how that had happened! Somehow he just hadn't thought about that little possibility hitting them so soon. Okay, so he hadn't really been _thinking _about it at all. "I…wow," he stammered finally. "A baby?"

"That's usually how these things work," Cassie replied, looking a little nervous even though she giggled. "I know we haven't really talked about children yet but…"

"I think we'll be doing a lot of that in the next few months," Aldon smiled, still stunned, but a little surprised to find that he wasn't displeased with the idea. Shocked, but not angry. He chuckled then and hugged her gently. "I guess we'll just have to move up that wedding a couple of years won't we?"

Cassie looked immediately relieved when he didn't lose it. She gave him a coy little smile though at his last words. "Was that meant to be an actual proposal?"

She'd caught him off guard again. Aldon laughed. "It's a promise," he replied. He was more than a little terrified by the flood of thoughts and worries that wanted to claim his mind, but he was excited too. It wasn't as if they hadn't already planned to spend the rest of their lives together. _Someday_ had just turned into_ soon_! "You know I love you, right?"

"I _had_ figured that out," Cassie stretched up on her toes and kissed him. "And I accept," she smiled when their lips parted.

"I just wish you didn't have to work this afternoon," Aldon sighed.

"I'll be fine," Cassie chuckled, stepped out of his arms. "Though I do need to change into something warmer. That's what I came back for. The others are probably waiting on me by now."

"Tell them you had an important engagement," Aldon chuckled, stifling the urge to say any other words of concern. If the doctor said this was a quick, safe trip for her to be making – even pregnant – than he'd just have to trust that Cassie would be all right.

"Oh I wouldn't miss giving them that bit of news," Cassie blushed as she pulled one of his sweaters out of the clean laundry basket and dragged it on over her head. They were too big, but that meant they fit over her other layers perfectly. Then she grabbed her coat, scarf, hat, and gloves. "I'll see you tonight!" she blew him a kiss as she headed back out the door, a delighted laugh the last sound he heard before the door clicked shut.

Aldon found it hard to laugh though, as he realized that the scariest thing about all of this was probably going to be telling his _parents_ – and Cassie's – that they were going to be grandparents in a few months! None of them even knew they had moved in together. It had all happened so fast, Aldon was feeling more than a little overwhelmed. With a sigh, he got up and headed into the bedroom. Maybe a nap would help him clear his head. Besides, he thought with a nervous chuckle as he lay down, in a few months, he and Cassie wouldn't be getting much sleep!

When Aldon woke up he glanced at the clock, taking a moment to register that he'd actually passed out for more than three hours. No wonder he was hungry, he'd almost slept right through dinner! He got up, pulled on shoes, and went into the other room. Cassie wasn't back. Or at least, she hadn't come home yet. She _had_ said it might be a late night. Oh well. He supposed he should just go get dinner while he had the chance. He'd just _swing by_ the Fort hospital and see if they were back yet on the way.

Aldon fought the urge to whistle as he walked down to the hospital wing. His earlier shock had been replaced by a giddy, nervous, excited feeling. Sure there was a lot to figure out – like where in their tiny quarters they would fit the things a baby needed – but he and Cassie would tackle those challenges together!

Kit was sitting the reception desk when he arrived. Being dinner time the waiting room was practically empty. She gave him a knowing smirk that told Aldon that Cassie's friend already knew all about today's little revelation. He suspected everyone on the medical staff probably did. "And what ailment do you need help with today, sir?" She commented teasingly.

"I've misplaced my heart," Aldon chuckled. "Seriously though, are Cassie and the others back yet?"

Kit shook her head. "Sorry, Aldon. We haven't heard from them yet, but there's a storm that moved in a little while ago, so they'll probably stay the night in the village."

Aldon couldn't help feeling disappointed, but it was for the best. With the snow, the safest thing to do was wait until morning if not longer, depending on the strength of the storm, before attempting to come back. "Thanks, Kit."

"Don't look so dejected," Kit giggled. "I think the only thing around here that's dangerous to Cassandra is you."

Aldon's ears warmed. His friends were_ not_ going to let him live this down for a while, he could tell. Just wait till Ollie found out; Aldon knew he was in for the ribbing of a lifetime. "Gee thanks."

"Oh don't get uptight," Kit shook her head, red curls bouncing. "You're just too decent you know that? There should be more guys like you around."

A real compliment from Kit? Aldon smiled. "Thanks." He couldn't really say much else.

"Hey, Kit?" one of the other nurses stuck her head out of the back room. "Have you seen Doctor Hassen? We just got a call from Doctor Maureen wanting to make sure the girls got back safely. Apparently it was a quick visit, and they left the village over an hour ago to beat the storm."

"In this mess?" Kit's eyes went wide.

Aldon felt suddenly cold. "What do you mean they left? They're out in this?" It was only a half-hour drive, but in this kind of weather it was often impossible to get through at all.

The other nurse looked up. Then she seemed to recognize him, and she went a little pale. "Umm…yeah," she confirmed.

"I think Hassen's in a meeting with General Armstrong," Kit replied, sounding surprisingly calm. She picked up the phone. "I'll page him and we'll see what's up." Olivia Armstrong still ran Briggs much to Aldon's surprise, given how long ago his father had worked – so to speak – with the woman. Still, she was apparently the best person for the job, and Aldon had only seen her briefly in passing. Though, given how much she disliked his father that might be a _good_ thing.

Aldon waited impatiently while Kit called Armstrong's office and got permission to talk to Hassen. Then he listened while she told him what had happened. "I'm on hold," she said after a couple of minutes. "Hassen's apprising Armstrong of the situation." After another minute, she apparently got someone on the end of the line. "Yes, Doctor. Thank you. Yes, I'll send Reko up there now." Reko was one of the male nurses, his specialty being emergency care in cold conditions; he was the one sent out on most rescue missions. Aldon swallowed. Kit hung up the phone. "They're mounting a search party now," she looked sympathetically at Aldon.

"I'll get Reko," the other nurse said, vanishing temporarily.

"Where are they meeting up?" Aldon asked, perhaps a little too forcefully, because Kit scowled at him.

"Don't even think about it, Aldon Elric," she frowned suspiciously. "You're not trained for this kind of thing. They'll find the car."

"Yeah, we will," Aldon turned and headed out. "I'll find them myself." As soon as he hit the hallway outside he broke into a run. Actually, he had a pretty good idea of where they would assemble. At some point they had to pick up the rescue supplies, and he knew where that storage room was. There was a whole locker room devoted to the cold weather gear and rescue teams.

Aldon was already a little out of breath by the time he arrived. Fortunately, they were still waiting for Reko, so he knew they wouldn't have left yet. When he arrived, he immediately received several funny looks from the men in uniform getting into cold weather gear; not all of the rescue teams at Briggs were military, but a large number of them were by the nature of the place.

A couple of the guys were mechanics like he was, and they recognized him at once; giving him even more startled looks as Aldon approached the Lieutenant Colonel who appeared to be in charge of the mission. "What are you doing here?" the man asked with a frown.

"I'd like permission to join this rescue operation, Sir," Aldon said, saluting.

"On what grounds?" the man asked with a derisive snort. "Are you rescue qualified?"

"Not technically, Sir," Aldon admitted. He knew most of the techniques, and a lot of it was common sense, but he hadn't actually qualified to be on one of the teams yet.

"Then I have no use for you, boy," the Lt. Colonel turned his head to survey the controlled chaos.

"But, Sir—"

"But?" the man turned back around sharply with a glare. "Are you denying a direct order?"

Aldon screwed up his courage. He was not going to be left behind on this! "Yes, Sir," he replied firmly. He wasn't a soldier after all; it wasn't as if they could court martial him. He _could_ get fired over this when his supervisors heard about it, but for Cassie he would take that chance. "I know the ladies in that car. If they decided to take shelter, I might be able to help you figure out where they are." Or something, anything to get them to_ let him go._ His heart was pounding.

"You're wasting my time," the Lt. Colonel shook his head. "Get out of the way."

"Excuse me, Lieutenant Colonel Bans, but Elric is with me."

Aldon looked up, surprised, as Neko Karrells entered the room, a large supply case on a strap over his shoulder.

"Elric?" Bans did a short double take and looked at Aldon.

"Yes, Sir," Neko continued smoothly. "Here, Aldon, carry this," he shoved the large case at him. Aldon grabbed it and, without questioning, pulled it over his shoulder. "I'll need assistance with the equipment and he's another pair of strong arms and knowledge of proper first aid techniques." The look he gave Aldon was one that said he'd better not dare contradict the medic if he wanted to come along. It was true, Aldon had the knowledge, and working with his mother with auto-mail patients counted for something he supposed.

"Very well," Bans sighed and shook his head. "Suit up and come along. It's on your neck if he can't hack it Medic."

"Understood, Sir," Neko replied. He turned to Aldon after the man walked away. "You're a stubborn son of a bitch aren't you?"

"When I have to be," Aldon shrugged. "Thanks Neko."

"Thank Kit," Neko smirked. "I'm off the hook on a poker debt for this."

Aldon chuckled as he grabbed cold weather gear from an unoccupied locker space and started suiting up. "I'll make sure to do so when we get back."

There was little talking as the men piled into the vehicles Briggs had that were made for cold weather travel and rough terrain; larger tires, bigger treads, with chains already in place to deal with snow and ice. They were over-engineered in every sense of the word, but they were sturdy. The team took two of the trucks and headed out of the garage into the middle of a full fledged blizzard.

"Damn this came early this year," Neko commented as he looked out the windows into the white beyond.

Aldon knew he should have been nervous about being out in the middle of weather like this, but he was more fearful for Cassie with every passing moment; he didn't have the luxury to worry about himself. "How long do you think it will last?" he asked, looking past Neko, who had the window seat. There were three men in the back seat, with another three in the front of each vehicle for a twelve man rescue team.

"Could be another couple of hours, or _days_," Neko shrugged. He had grown up in the North, so he knew the weather patterns better than Aldon did. "But if it's been doing this all afternoon than who knows how far the girls got before they got stuck." He said the last with such surety that Aldon's stomach clenched.

"You don't think they turned back maybe?" he asked.

Neko shook his head. "Tanya's too stubborn, and she prefers driving."

Aldon let the conversation stop there. It was just making him feel worse, and he needed to keep his wits about him for when they found Cassie and the others. Not if, _when_.

The world seemed to shrink to the size of the truck. Outside, the snow fell so thickly he had no idea how they would see _anything _in it. The only clue that the other truck was still ahead of them was the fact that they had radio contact and it checked in regularly. With agonizing slowness they crawled up the side of the ridge. At moments when the wind blew the snow, Aldon could see down into cracks and crevices where the road fell away. He refused to consider that the car might have slipped off the road down one of those! Aldon was sure he heart wouldn't take it.

"Rescue Two; we have skid marks in the snow!" The call came across the radio after two hours of driving. They had crested the ridge and started down the other side which was, fortunately, shallower. "Sighting at our nine o'clock."

"That's the car," Neko translated unnecessarily.

Aldon felt dread and relief fill him at the same time – a singularly odd sensation. He just nodded.

"All right," the Major driving said turning to them. "Everybody out. Scour the area and call out when you locate the vehicle."

The sudden reality of the blizzard outside slammed into Aldon as he dropped to the ground, his feet sinking into the several inches of snow still rapidly accumulating on the road. The wind nearly ripped the scarf from around his mouth, the hat from off his head. The cold began leeching through the layers of clothing immediately and the howl and shriek of the air filled his ears. Bitter cold; and somewhere in this was the car that held the people they were supposed to rescue.

They spread out along the road, with directions to head in'_one_ direction in a straight line and count their footsteps. Aldon was handed a long length of rope. "Tie it to the truck," Neko explained, yelling over the wind as he tied his to a bar on the side. "No one gets lost."

Aldon nodded and did as instructed; making sure the knot was tight. It wouldn't do any good to lose one of the team, and he definitely didn't want to die out here in the wilderness.

The rope would take him fifty paces. Chances were the car would still be somewhere along the road. It had been over_ three hours_ since it had left the village with the three women inside. Surely the girls were resourceful enough to survive that long. If not… well, Aldon wasn't sure he cared what happened to him if they hadn't.

He paced off his steps, looking for anything around him that might be the car, or even hiding a car given how fast the snow was piling up! At fifty he stopped and found himself standing only feet from the edge of a cliff. But he'd seen no marks, no other signs. "Please, let her be all right," he murmured softly to himself.

"_Over here_," he heard a call through the whistling winds. It came from his right and back toward the road. "I found it!"

Aldon turned and started slogging back through the snow as fast as he could, wishing that he could run _faster._ By the time he got there, half of the team had beaten him and he was panting from the exertion; running in snow was difficult. The car was only a few yards off the road, half buried in a snow-bank with one side still exposed. It didn't look badly damaged, thank goodness. Aldon slid down the side of the shallow embankment and nearly bumped into another well-covered shape that turned out to be Neko. He noticed that everyone here had untied their ropes to avoid knotting and did the same. "Are they still here?" he asked.

"We're about to find out," one of the other men commented. Aldon couldn't tell who most people were when they were all bundled like this, but it sounded like the Major from the truck. "The doors are iced closed so we're going to have to pry it open."

Four men stepped up with crow bars and Aldon got out of the way. Each took a corner of the door. "If you can hear me," one of them bellowed at the car. "Stay back ladies! All right. On three."

On three, the door flew off its hinges with a sharp crack, falling to the ground and given everyone a sudden view of the inside, and a mound in the back seat that was made of blankets.

"Smart girls." Aldon heard Neko comment as he moved forward into the space, taking over. "Tanya, Cassandra, Aisley! You're clear."

The mound of blankets moved, and one black-haired head poked out – Tanya. "Took you long enough Neko!" she called back. "We were running out of booze and cards!"

"Smart-ass," Neko said as someone ran up with more blankets. "Anyone hurt?"

"No," Tanya shook her head. "Just freezing our tits off."

"Can't have that," one of the men sniggered from behind Aldon and there were a couple of female giggles from under the remaining blankets that had been keeping the body warmth of the three women in one small pocket.

"Then let's get you in the truck and get back to Briggs," Neko offered her a hand. Tanya crept out and snuggled into the over-coat that one of the soldiers put over her already layered form. "Thanks handsome," she chuckled as she was escorted back towards the trucks.

"This one's yours Elric."

Aldon stood frozen a moment before he realized what Neko meant, then he rushed forward as Cassie stepped out of the vehicle wrapped in a couple of blankets; she still managed to look _cold._ Her eyes lit up. "Aldon?" She fell into his open arms, which closed immediately around her as he pulled another coat over her shoulders.

"I've got you," he promised softly. "And I'm never going to let you go."

He led her back through the snow to the truck and got her up inside. It had been left running and was reasonably warm. They had brought thermoses of hot broth too. Aldon poured some into a cup and handed it to Cassie, who was shivering. He put his arm around her. Tanya had been taken to the other truck. "Drink this," he cupped her gloved hands around it. "You'll feel better."

"It was so cold," Cassie commented softly as she blew on the hot soup and took a sip. "We slid off pretty hard and got caught in that snow bank. We got under the blankets to keep warm."

"It's a good thing you did," Neko commented as he clambered back into the seat beside them, opening and shutting the door quickly. Aisley was climbing into the front and being offered soup as well by one of the soldiers. "And you'll all be getting a complete check up when we get back to the Fort," he added firmly, giving them stern glances. "Can't be too careful. What were you girls thinking?"

"Tanya was sure we could beat the storm," Aisley explained, the blonde sighing as she drank her soup. "Though _someone_," she glanced back at Cassie with a wicked grin, "was just as impatient to get back."

Cassie blushed. "I guess I wasn't thinking," she replied softly and leaned her head against Aldon's shoulder. "At least not about anything sensible."

"Obviously," Aldon chuckled, relieved now that his fiancée was safe beside him. He reached out with his free hand and tilted her chin upward just slightly, kissing her. He suspected that _sensibility_ was not something he was likely to be accused of any time soon either!

**October 18****th****, 1949**

Edward didn't mean to overhear the conversation, but it was difficult not to. He, Mustang, and Breda had just finished a late afternoon meeting and he'd walked out the door into the already empty front office without closing the door; Figuring, of course, that the other two would be right behind him. As he paused to snag the last donut out of the box sitting on the corner desk he heard Breda still in his office.

"Roy, before you go," he sighed, "We need to talk." Breda didn't sound like he wanted to say what was coming.

"This is about Maes, isn't it," Roy replied; not even a question.

"Yeah."

Ed winced. If Breda was bringing it up to Roy, this wasn't going to be good. It was impossible lately _not_ to hear about Maes Mustang's rather uncharacteristic behavior. The problem was, people weren't talking about it as being unusual for Maes anymore; they were just gossiping, or complaining.

"You know I hate to say anything, Roy," Breda said. "But the Assembly's actually been riding me on this one. It's too much, too often, and too public. If he were less high profile I could probably just deal with this internally, quietly, and be done with it; but everyone knows who he is, and it isn't doing anything for the image of the military to let him be."

Roy snorted. "Glad to see everyone's heart is in the right place."

"I didn't say I liked it," Breda countered. "That's why I wanted to talk to you first. You need to do something about his behavior Roy, before I have to _do something _more official. I talked to Marcus Kane, and he's already reprimanded him for poor conduct three times in the last month, and that's on his record. There's been a lot more off the record this year."

"I know," Roy replied, his voice tight. "Believe me, I know. I've tried talking to him about it, Breda. He won't even talk to Riza."

"Try again," Breda replied firmly. "If you can't get through to him, he's going to flush his entire military career down the drain in the matter of less than two years."

"Might be a record," Roy replied, sounding irritated and fatalistic at the same time. There was no humor in the statement, just sarcasm. "You think I don't know that? He's driving me _crazy_, Breda." A heavy sigh. "I'll give it another try."

Ed realized he was just standing there, holding the donut. He stuffed it in his mouth and chewed. He knew Roy wouldn't give up on his son easily, but Ed had heard the reports himself. Maes seemed like he'd slept his way through half the available girls in Central. Though while that was an exaggeration, Ed knew the numbers at least counted into the teens, maybe higher, and there'd been a few _fights_. Most recently, he'd shown up to HQ last week hung-over for three days straight before Kane had put that last reprimand on his file.

"I hope he listens, I really do," Breda replied softly, sounding very sympathetic. "We're all worried about him, Roy, you know that. I don't give a damn about the military's reputation compared to that."

"Thanks, Breda." Roy sounded a little relieved.

Ed thought to leave about five seconds too late; footsteps came out the door and then stopped as Roy obviously spotted him standing there, back still to the door.

"You heard?" Roy asked softly.

"Yeah," Ed replied, turning around and feeling a little embarrassed. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

Roy shrugged. "Well, it's not like you didn't already know. I think all of Central knows," he added bitterly. He looked tired and stretched thin. It had to be a double blow really, Ed knew. It would hurt because Roy_ was_ the former President and still high ranking Brass but, more so, because Roy was his father, and Ed knew how much Roy loved his only son.

"He's not a bad kid," Ed replied, wishing he could offer more to help, but he knew _his_ talking to Maes would not be well received by the younger alchemist. "He's just lost. Eventually, he'll find his footing again."

Roy smiled weakly. "I hope so, Ed." He walked past him then and headed out the door.

Breda stopped in the doorway and sighed. "I don't envy him that conversation," he commented.

"Me neither," Ed nodded. "So many people say the hard part about parenting is disciplining them when they're young, teaching them to walk and talk and change their own clothes, or get them to learn their lessons. Really, it's harder to watch them make bad decisions after you know you taught them better."

"I didn't think yours gave you much trouble," Breda gave him a sideways look.

Ed smiled. "I got lucky, and I hope it doesn't happen, but they're as human as the rest of us. Sara and Aldon did occasional stupid stuff when they were kids, just nothing catastrophic or self-destructive. Ethan, well, he's a lot like me."

"So it's just a matter of time?" Breda smiled a little.

"Pretty much," Ed chuckled. "If my parents had been around when I was teenager, I'd probably have spent months grounded. My mother would never have put up with my attitude and smart mouth."

"Now that I believe," Breda smirked. "With Charisa and Niam in my life, I'm finally starting to understand my own parents, and what the rest of you guys have gone through."

"Isn't parenthood a wonderful thing," Ed grinned, then sighed. "I hope he and Riza can get through to Maes. They've all been through a lot; I don't want to see any of them hurt."

"Sympathy for Mustang from you," Breda chuckled sadly. "Now I know it's serious."

"Yeah," Ed shrugged. "I should get home. I promised Ethan we'd work on learning the Xing language this evening. The only way to get an accurate translation of some of those old texts is going to be to do it ourselves." So Ed was learning it right alongside his son. Al had a partial grasp of the language already, so that helped.

"Now there's an undertaking," Breda replied. "Good luck with that. 'Night, Ed."

"Good night," Ed finally headed out of the office, glad to be going home to a peaceful house tonight. Thank goodness his own kids were comparatively uncomplicated!

**October 19****th****, 1949**

Roy had to resist the urge to have a drink before dinner. Riza had invited Maes over – their son no longer came by without a direct invitation – and he had actually accepted. Though it hurt Roy to realize he had been _expecting_ Maes to turn it down. What had happened to his family, and why hadn't he been able to see it coming?

"There's no reason to assume it will be a fight," Riza said reasonably as she pulled the roast and vegetables out of the oven. "If you're spoiling for one you'll jinx it before we even talk to him."

"He hasn't listened before, Riza," Roy pointed out, leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. "What makes you think he will this time?"

"Because eventually, if you say something enough times, people listen." Riza looked up at him. "Set the table, Roy."

He smirked. "Is that an order, _Lieutenant_?" When she got authoritative, he still called her that; it was more of a term of endearment.

"Yes, General."

"Then yes ma'am," Roy couldn't help chuckling despite his anxiety as he got down plates and silver and did as he was asked. In truth, the whole thing had him unusually terrified. Not because he was afraid of fighting with his son – though that was something he wasn't used to – but because of how hypocritical it felt to have to call out his son about the very issue for which he had been rather disliked as a young officer. There was, however, a critical difference and that was extremity. If Maes wasn't willing to curb his behavior and start acting… well, like he used to, than he really would be in danger of ruining the future in the military he had wanted so badly for years.

His stomach turned and Roy grimaced. He didn't blame Maes for the stress, but it wasn't helping _his_ health either. Roy hated getting old; he still didn't really want to accept the reality, though he had finally given up on alchemically dying his hair. It had only really gone lighter gray at the temples above his ears, but even as well as he had aged in general, he didn't look like he was thirty anymore, or even forty. He looked pretty good for over-sixty, but that didn't mean he liked it!

Stevenson got on to him all the time about stress levels, blood pressure, proper nutrition, but if Riza hadn't been the one making sure their meals were prepared at home, Roy still didn't know when he'd have had time to worry about it for the past several years. Even now it was so much_ hassle._ He had work to do damn it!

Roy contemplated getting that drink again but the doorbell rang. Since when had Maes ever felt the need to ring the doorbell? Or even knock? He still had a key to the house and the door was unlocked.

"I'll get it," Riza patted him on the arm as she moved past him.

"Thanks."

In the other room he heard the door open and Riza greet their son. There was a moment of silence he assumed was the _obligatory_ hug, then he heard them coming towards the dining room, Riza asking about work, his office mates; her usual questions that she had always asked, as if nothing was amiss. Roy was reminded again that his wife was, perhaps, one of the greatest _actresses_ he had ever met.

Dinner was relatively quiet, but not as painfully awkward as Roy had feared; at least, not while they were eating. Conversation was casual. Roy told an amusing story about something that had happened in the office a few days ago, Maes reciprocated with a tale about one of his recent missions, and Riza kept glasses and plates full and offered up her usual intelligent commentary.

"So when are you going to get to it?" Maes asked almost too casually when a natural silence fell in the conversation near the end of the meal, before dessert.

"What do you mean?" Roy asked.

Maes rolled his eyes. "The lecture; you don't think I really believe you invited me over for the pleasure of my company?"

"You don't think we might actually _want _you around because we're family and we love you?" Roy countered, keeping his tone bemused, with a mild sarcasm that implied he was being suspicious.

"Frankly no."

Roy sighed. "All right then. If that's what you want, I'd hate to disappoint. I had a talk with Breda last night about you."

Maes whistled. "Wow. Don't you think that's a little extreme?"

"He approached me," Roy informed him, scowling slightly. "Apparently your behavior lately has been less than exemplary."

"Oh don't bother dancing around this with nice words," Maes snorted, setting his napkin down on the table. "The Brass doesn't like my behavior because I've stopped towing the line and loosened up a little. But really, you all just think I'm a complete _screw up_."

Roy paused, not entirely sure how to respond to the rather blatant admission. Apparently Maes was not unaware of how people viewed the _new_ Maes Mustang.

"No one said that," Riza pointed out calmly.

"Oh really?" The look in Maes' eyes was surprisingly calm, if a little bitter. Roy had been prepared for anger, for denial; this response was much more disturbing. "Have you listened to Marcus, sorry _Colonel_ Kane, chew me out recently? I know what they put on my record, and obviously _someone_ thinks I'm screwing up pretty royally if Breda brought it up."

"The Assembly pressured him into it," Roy said.

"Wow, I've got the attention of the entire Amestrian government. How long did that take you, Dad?" Maes asked, smirking ironically.

"It's not funny," Roy snapped, getting annoyed with the smart-ass attitude. _This _was not a Maes he knew how to deal with.

"I think it's hilarious," Maes countered humorlessly. "You had to blow up half a civilization to get noticed."

"Now that's going a little too far," Riza stepped in, her voice quiet, but firm. "We did _not _ask you to come home to attack you, Maes. We love you. We're just concerned."

"What, because I'm not your little pet anymore?" Maes rounded on Riza instead. "Because I don't 'heel' and 'sit' and stand at attention like one of the dogs?"

"Don't talk like that to your mother," Roy growled, feeling his temper going. That was _enough_!

"Should I consider that an order, General?" Maes quipped.

"If that's your preference," Roy replied, not really caring if this escalated further; Maes was taking things too far already. "Not that you follow orders or regulations particularly well, so I suppose it doesn't make a difference."

"Oh you sound so disappointed," his son laughed derisively. "Why don't you just get it out of your system? I know you're just dying to let that legendary Mustang bite out and tell me what you _really_ think."

"I think you already know what I think," Roy found himself standing, leaning against his hands which were on the table, though he had no memory of coming to his feet. He was being baited, but damn it he didn't care right now! "Reporting for duty hung-over? A different girl every night of the week? What is this _about_, Maes?"

"Oh, so the fact that your son has achieved – or rather, exceeded - your_ stellar _reputation is what bothers you," Maes smirked.

"Roy, Maes, please…." But Riza's rare plea went unheeded.

"You are so_ full of it_," Roy snorted, his one eye flashing. "You think I'm _jealous_ of my son turning into a drunk and a rake? Believe it or not, I actually had standards; I didn't just go sleeping with every woman who wanted in my bed; and believe me, there were plenty." He was shouting now; he was just that pissed! "And I _neve_r showed up for duty so hung-over that my superior officer could tell what I had the night before by _smell_." That was a little detail that Kane had written in one of the_ unofficial _reports that had only gone straight up to Breda. Everyone was trying so hard to keep Maes from tanking his career except for Maes himself. Roy wasn't about to claim having _never_ been hung-over when he had to report in; almost no soldier could claim it and really, no soldier would _believe_ it. Roy would have been lying too. But there was once or twice, and then there was habitually. Maes had crossed the line.

"It'_s my_ life," Maes came to his own feet, his voice rising slightly as he met Roy's one-eyed gaze head-on. "What's it matter to you anyway if I have a little fun in my off-time? It's not _your_ reputation that's in the gutter right? And it's not like I'm doing girls in the closets on duty."

That thought hadn't even occurred to Roy until Maes said it; that he'd even _thought_ of it made Roy madder, however irrational that was. "Tell me then," Roy asked, his voice taking on a harder edge. "Is this about your little _tiff_ with Sara Elric last year?"

"Oh please," Maes laughed, but his eyes took on a momentary, uncertain look that vanished as soon as Maes got it under control. "You think I'm doing this because my best friend turned me down?"

"Frankly, yes," Roy replied, schooling his expression into a cold, knowing smirk; the one that used to drive Edward nuts – probably still would if Roy wanted to risk his neck. "I think you're still interested in her, and that you're over-reacting like a spoiled _brat_!"

"_Over-reacting_? She turned me down publicly, and loudly, in front of half the State!" Maes exclaimed in consternation.

"See?" Roy smirked; score one. "Doesn't work too well does it; trying to find a replacement? Or are you just looking for a way to get her out of your head?"

Maes' startled expression – the flash of pain and vulnerability - turned into a dark scowl. "Stay out of my business. I'll do things the way I want."

"You're going to destroy your career before it even starts over this?" Roy asked incredulously.

"I don't care about that anymore!" Maes shouted, finally completely losing his calm façade.

He couldn't have just said that. _Damn it._ "Then why the hell don't you do us _all _a favor and_ resign_?" Roy bellowed.  
"Because if I do than I've got nothing left!" Maes froze then, as if realizing what he'd just said; eyes going wide as if he'd been caught admitting something. Which, Roy realized, he _had. _

"Maes, please," Riza cut in again. Roy couldn't see her immediately because she was on his left side, but he could hear the rare note of worry in his wife's voice. Still, she maintained that wonderful solid calm that made her the one rock in Roy's life; the stability that had kept their family together for years. "You _know_ this isn't the answer. No one wants to see you miserable; they're just concerned and want to help before it's too late. Can we talk about this? Like_ civilized_ people," she added, giving Roy a small glare he caught as he turned to look at her.

But her words seemed to have a polarizing effect on their son. Maes shook off his momentary shock and backed up. "Talk? You mean like we _didn't_ when I was kid? It's always been about the State with you two; all about duty! Only now that your _perfect _son is soiling the family name and stirring up trouble in your _precious _military you care and you want to say something!"

"It's not like that at all," a frown creased Riza's forehead. Roy knew this had to hurt her; she had been so patient with Maes, had tried to make sure he never felt neglected; and Maes had _understood_ once. Apparently, he'd changed his mind.

"Isn't it?" Maes snapped, glaring between them and backing up a few more steps. "I've got to go." With that, he spun on his heel and left the living room, his parents standing in stunned silence.

Roy's mouth was open, but nothing further came out for several seconds. Finally, he remembered to close it. "You fool," he murmured, startled to realize there were tears in his eyes. What was funny, really, was that he wasn't entirely sure if he meant Maes or himself.

A strange sound made Roy turn his head again, and he saw Riza leaned over the table, her hands against the wood, her hair falling down around her face. Only a handful of times – even in all the years they had been married and before that worked together and when he had studied Alchemy under her father – _only_ rarely had Roy ever seen Riza cry. It always made him feel as if the world had been knocked horribly off kilter. "Riza," he put a hand tentatively on her shoulder and that was all the invitation she needed; Riza turned sharply, burying her face in Roy's chest as she sobbed quietly. Roy felt his heart breaking as he held her close.

"What_ happened_, Roy?" she asked, her words muffled by his quickly dampening shirt. "What happened to our sweet boy?"


	6. Winter '49

**November 15th****, 1949**

Talk about a stroke of luck, _finally._ Sara had been happy to take the brief mission Kane had called her with last. He promised she was coming home after this one, and this time, she agreed. It had been almost a solid year and a half since her feet had touched the concrete of Central, and Sara wanted to _go home._ But first, she had been asked to pick up some paperwork at Briggs that needed to come down to Central _not by_ Post. She had been happy to accept; it meant she could surprise Aldon by dropping by and seeing how her little brother was faring!

Upon arriving late in the afternoon, she got the _work_ part of her trip dispatched first. Then she inquired where to find Aldon Elric and was given the number and location of his quarters. Grinning, Sara headed down into the bowels of Fort Briggs until she found the unassuming door in the concrete wall with the right number. Hoping her directions were right, she knocked.

"I'll get it," she heard a voice from behind the door; definitely not Aldon's. The door opened and Cassandra looked at her, blinked twice in surprise, and then smiled.

"Sara! It's your sister, Don!" she called back into the room as she stepped back from the door. "Come in."

It struck Sara as mildly odd that Cassandra treated her like a guest in her place, not Sara's brother's, until she stepped inside and looked around the little apartment; the art supplies in the corner, the colorful quilted wall-hangings that brightened up the windowless space, books on the shelf on art and dance, and then there were the little details – not just two cups on the table – that made it clear that the space was definitely cohabited.

Well, wasn't _that_ an interesting development! How long had this been going on?

Her brother was at the table, a cup of something hot by one hand, sketch paper in front of him as he worked on some schematic; a familiar sight, but one that was accented by the differences in her brother. He wore a gray t-shirt with an open, dark green flannel over it that strained a little over shoulders that were definitely broade. His hair wasn't _shaggy_ but it was a little more ruffled than she recalled, not as tightly trimmed. Aldon looked a little older, more confidently relaxed. He looked up at her with a smile that was pleased, surprised, and – was it nervous? Well, given the room, perhaps she didn't blame him for the last one. "Hey Sis!" he stood up and came over, embracing her in a hug that she returned enthusiastically. "It's good to see you."

"And you," Sara couldn't help smiling as she looked up at him. "Though crushing me is a funny way of showing it," she teased.

Aldon blushed and laughed as he stepped back. "Guess you can't tease me about being soft anymore," he smirked. "What are you doing up here anyway?"

"Work," Sara shrugged. "As usual; though I've been promised I actually get to go home after this one," she smiled. "I haven't told Mom and Dad yet. I think I want to just see their faces when I finally show up at the door again."

"It's been a while hasn't it," Aldon nodded. At the mention of their folks, he tensed briefly, but then he was grinning again. "They'll be thrilled I'm sure. I'm glad you're here though. Take off your coat and get comfortable. Coffee?" he offered.

"That'd be great," Sara agreed. "I spent most of last winter up north, but lately it's been warmer climate missions and I'd forgotten just how cold it really is," she grinned as she hung her purple coat on the rack near the door and sat down at the table.

"You want tea, Cassie?" Aldon asked his girlfriend as he stepped to the corner where the pot was steaming and poured what appeared to be the last of the coffee into a clean mug and set it down in front of Sara.

"No thanks," Cassie smiled as she picked up a book and then stepped in and kissed him warmly. "I think I'm going to rest a little before dinner."

"All right," Aldon chuckled.

As Cassie headed for the bedroom, Sara realized that she was wearing one of _Aldon's_ shirts – a faded red flannel that had to be rolled at the sleeves to not be too long on the petite young woman. She watched until Cassie closed the door behind her; then smirked as she sipped her coffee. "So domestic," she commented as Aldon sat back down in his seat. "It's almost as bad as watching Mom and Dad."

Aldon's face flushed again and he laughed nervously. "Is there something wrong with that?" he asked as he picked up his coffee and drank.

"Not really," Sara shrugged. It was obvious that Aldon's relationship with Cassie had moved far beyond the innocent flirting she had last seen. Apparently her brother had grown up in a _few_ ways though since they had last spoken. She was keenly aware of just how much she had apparently missed, and it hurt a little. They had always been close, and now there were things in her brother's life she had missed. "Do Mom and Dad know about you two cohabitating?" she asked, watching her sibling.

"No," Aldon admitted what Sara had expected. She was sure her parents would have told her _something_ if they had known. Mom would probably throw a fit over it!

Sara sighed. "How long?"

"A few months," Aldon looked uncomfortable but also resigned; he had to know how their folks would respond. Eventually the world _outside _of Briggs would have to find out.

"They have to find out eventually," Sara pointed out. "Assuming, of course, that you plan to make this a permanent arrangement."

Aldon's eyes flashed angrily. "You don't really think I'd do otherwise do you?" he snapped.

"Easy!" Sara held up one hand calmly. "Think about it from the outside perspective, Little Brother. The last time you and I actually talked, you got flustered if I teased you about _kissing_ a girl. The only news I've had lately has been from Mom and Dad, and I'd be crazy to be the one to tell them about this."

Aldon relaxed a little then he sighed. "Sorry, Sara. I'm just not really sure how to tell them about it all yet. I don't like lying to Mom and Dad, even if it's by omission, but it just happened so _naturally _and it didn't seem all that complicated really you know?" He fiddled with the pencil on the table. "I love Cassie; I can't imagine life without her."

"So you start the call to Mom and Dad with '_guess what, I'm engaged_,'" Sara suggested. "Assuming you at least had that much class." She knew her irritation with his brother and Cassie was a little irrational, but she had always been a little protective of her younger brothers.

"Of course," Aldon glared at her across the table. "I can't believe you even feel like you have to ask."

"_You're_ the one living with the woman, or I guess, your fiancée," Sara chuckled pointedly. "I'm glad to hear that though, Don. I'd hate to think you'd lost all your common sense for a little gratification in bed."

"As if you'd know anything about that," Aldon countered, obviously annoyed with her cynicism.

The words stung and clued her in that, in some ways, Aldon really was still an innocent. "I do know," Sara replied softly, sipping her coffee. She knew only _too well _now how these things usually went; even the briefly considered notion that Aldon might have turned into a Cal Fischer, or even a Maes Mustang, bothered her more than she could have really put into words.

Aldon's reaction was about what she expected then; he paused, understanding coming to his eyes of at least what that statement meant, and looked startled. "You? But you're not…"

"Seeing anyone?" Sara met his eyes with an even expression. "No, Don. I'm not, and I wasn't really then either. It was a while ago. Doesn't matter who it was either, so please don't ask."

"I, I won't," Aldon swallowed, though that had obviously been what he wanted to ask next. "Damn, Sis."

"So you'll forgive me if I'm a little cynical on the subject," Sara commented over her cup. Still, she wasn't being entirely fair. "Look, I'm happy for you, Don, really. If you and Cassie love each other as much as it's obvious you do, than I'm glad you're happy." She smiled. "So when were you thinking of actually getting married?"

Aldon looked away almost at once, if only for a moment. "Actually we ah… tomorrow," he chuckled uneasily. "You have really good timing."

Tomorr— "What?" Sara stared at him. "Before you even tell Mom and Dad? Are you crazy? They'll freak!"

"I know, _okay,_" Aldon shouted over her and Sara shut up. Aldon's volume dropped immediately. "I just thought that it would be a little better to be able to tell them that before the, ah…. other news."

Sara scrutinized her brother for a moment, and was about to ask what he meant when her analytical mind put the details together. "Cassie's pregnant isn't she?" Hell, her brother was going to be a _father_? Now that was a mind-blowing realization!

Aldon nodded, running one hand through his hair. "We were already talking about getting married_ someday _before we found out. This just kind of…moved up the date." Sara said quietly while Aldon told her about the day they found out, and rescuing Cassie from the storm. It was really quite a tale. If nothing else, it assured her that her brother would do, quite literally, anything for the woman who obviously held his heart. "You'll stay through tomorrow right, Sis?" He asked when he finished. "It would mean a lot to both of us if _some_ family was actually there."

If someone in the family actually approved, he meant; Sara nodded. "Of course, you idiot! You think I'd miss my brother's wedding?" He was right, if Mom and Dad had to freak out about something, probably better that the first news be that Aldon had actually _married_ the girl. "But you have to promise me you'll tell Mom and Dad _before _I get back to Central. I won't just tell them, but I'm not going to lie either."

"I'll call," Aldon nodded, sighing. "It's funny, but I've been more nervous about telling them than about admitting this to_ Cassie's_ folks."

"Cassie's parents won't threaten to transmute you into a fish," Sara chuckled. "A word of advice; if you can, try and tell Dad first." Their mother would freak. While she couldn't imagine Dad being _cool with it_, at least he might listen after the initial explosion!

"That's what I'm going to try to do," Aldon agreed. "I'm more afraid of Mom," he admitted. "Also there's one other favor I'd like to ask if…if you don't mind."

"What's that?" Sara quirked an eyebrow.

Aldon stood and went over to the bookshelf, where he pulled out a small wooden box, took something out of it, and came back. "A few months ago we went panning in the mountains, just for fun you know." He opened his hand, and Sara looked down at a small, but very pretty emerald, and a very small hunk of gold. "I haven't had a chance to get into North City," Aldon smiled self-consciously. "And I want to do this right. But since you're here do you think maybe you could-"

"Transmute them into a ring?" Sara chuckled. "You really are as sentimental as Dad. Do you have a drawing of what you want it to look like?"

"Several," her engineer brother laughed, setting down a sheet covered in sketches from different angles. "It's not complicated or fancy but it reminds me of Cassie."

Sara looked at the drawings. It really was a very simple setting; elegant though. "You're right," she nodded. "And something that simple is no problem. In fact," she pulled out a piece of chalk and sketched a circle right there on the table top. Then she took the stone and the gold and placed them on it. She laid her hands down on the circle, and _zap_ in a couple of seconds it was done! "That should do it."

"You're awesome, Sis," Aldon grinned, picking the ring up and looking at it. "It's almost perfect."

"Only almost?" Sara scoffed, crossing her arms.

Aldon laughed. "Tomorrow, when it's on Cassie's finger it'll be perfect."

"You have a point," Sara had to concede that one. She picked up her coffee again, drinking the last of it. "What are you going to do when the baby comes?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. "Thinks are a little cramped in here already."

Aldon put the ring in the box he'd taken the components out of. "We'll manage if we have to," he replied. "Cassie doesn't mind, and we really love it here, but…"

"But?" Sara waited for him to elaborate.

Aldon dropped back down into his chair. "As much as I hate to do it, I think we'll probably be leaving Briggs before then."

"You're willing to leave off your training then?" Perhaps Sara shouldn't be surprised. Aldon would be the kind to put his family before anything else; it was genetic!

"I can always get work and keep learning somewhere else," Aldon sighed. "It's the cold up here. Cassie was sick all last winter, and it's already started again this year. She doesn't complain but I know it's hard on her, especially now."

"You should move," Sara agreed, "Somewhere warmer certainly. Will you go back to Central?"

"For a while probably, if I can talk Cassie into it," Aldon replied. "But we both really enjoy it up here in the summer, when the weather's not too cold. It's beautiful in the mountains when you can enjoy it; and so peaceful."

Sara liked the mountains too, on the rare moments where she stopped moving long enough to enjoy the scenery. "You don't have to stay in the city forever," she shrugged. "There are plenty of quiet country places that would be happy to have you both I'm sure."

"We'll think of something," Aldon smiled tiredly. "It's just all a little overwhelming right now. I feel like everything's happening at once."

"Don, that's because it is," Sara couldn't help teasing, just a little. Finding out all of this about her brother's life was a little overwhelming to _her;_ she could only imagine what being one of the principle players must be like. "But you should just enjoy the fact that all of it's good news; getting married, having a baby. These are happy things. The rest will sort itself out eventually."

"Thanks, Sis."

She stood then and stretched. "But I should get out of your hair."

"You won't stay for dinner?" Aldon asked, looking a little hurt.

"I'm sure you had a very pleasant evening planned before I got here," Sara smirked. "You're getting married tomorrow. I don't need to be in the way of last minute planning or anything else. I'll see you a little later probably, but I figure I'll just eat up in the Mess and catch up on military gossip before I dive back into the chaos at HQ. I'm horribly out of the loop!"

"Tomorrow afternoon, five o'clock in the Fort chapel," Aldon informed her with a nod. Sara knew she had been right; while he was glad to see her, and she him, what he and his soon-to-be-wife really needed most was a little peace and quiet!

Sara grabbed her coat and grinned from the doorway. "I wouldn't miss it."

**November 17****th****, 1949 **

It was snowing outside; a rare occurrence in Central, even in winter. It was early this year though and kind of pretty. Edward watched as it danced and floated outside the giant picture windows that lined the living room, looking out into the back yard. There wasn't a lot of accumulation – maybe an inch – but it was peaceful with twilight coming on and the soft shadows of blue and orange that snow always seemed to have at sunset.

The living room was dimly lit, with only a roaring fire in the fireplace casting any real light. Ed had turned the lights off and sprawled on the couch to watch the snow. While he enjoyed the radio, and going to the cinema sometimes or a play, there was nothing that really put him at ease more than the gifts nature could give them; and they were rare in the city.

Snow was full of so many memories. It reminded Ed of his childhood; of the snow that came to Resembool in the winter only because of the mountains, and then rarely; those were happy memories of playing with Al and Winry. Then there were the bittersweet days of study at Tucker's estate and playing with Nina, and Elicia's birth in that snowstorm. All of it seemed so long ago now; as if the snow itself was blurring his ability to see his own past.

Memories faded, replaced by things more pressing that made an impact; which was why Ed wrote them all down, and why he appreciated the pictures Winry had collected over the years. He had a scrapbook himself; of newspaper articles and clippings of things he wanted to remember. Most importantly though he had his notes; still in the form of a travelogue. A large part of that though did accurately detail their travels over the years. Only Ed knew which parts were really in code and which weren't.

Now snow most reminded him of playing with Sara, Aldon, and Ethan; watching his children grow, and feeling like a kid himself when they included him in their games; tossing snowballs and building forts and all sorts of shapes out of the delightful white stuff. Snow required no transmutation to be magical. One of his favorite memories was from a few years back, before the Xing war, when on a snow day Alphonse had brought Will and Alyse over, and both of the brothers had rough-housed and wrestled with the kids in the snow for_ hours _until everyone was turning a little blue and fingers were numb. Then they had all come back in for hot chocolate and sat in front of this very fireplace.

It made Ed wonder what his children were up to. A question that seemed to have answers much less often, though he was getting used to it. Whenever he heard from Aldon, the boy was upbeat, talking at length about his design work, his friends, and his life sounded like most did at that age; exciting, if a lot of hard work, and with far less sleep than any sane person ever got! Ed remembered those days, and was glad Aldon's adventures were not quite as life threatening; At least, not most of the time.

Sara's contact was much more scattered but that was understandable. Just by virtue of his work, Ed always knew roughly where she was and that she was fine; at least physically. She reported in on time and completed her missions successfully. Kane's reports of her work were glowing reviews. She _was,_ Ed had been teased, turning out to be a better officer than Ed had been when he was new. Of course, it helped that Sara wasn't a teenager any more.

He was getting used to it, but that didn't mean he didn't miss having them around!

Behind him, the phone rang, but Winry came in before he could get up. "I've got it," she said, picking up the phone. "Hello?"

Ed relaxed and sipped from the cup of hot tea in his hands. It was after dinner, and Ethan was upstairs in the alchemy workshop that had formerly been Sara's room practicing his transmutation. Occasionally Ed would hear the tell-tale noises.

"Of course. I'll ask him," Winry said into the phone. He heard her turn around. "Ed, do you know if Roy was going to work late or something this evening?"

"No," Ed shook his head, sitting up to look over the back of the couch. "Is something wrong?"

"Riza says he hasn't come home yet, and it's getting late," Winry replied, looking a little concerned herself. "He didn't answer when she called his office."

That wasn't good. Roy had been quiet, with less of a sense of humor – which was saying something – but in all honesty, given the strain of dealing with his son lately, Ed couldn't say he blamed him. Roy was moody but he never let it affect his work. "Would it help if I went and looked for him?" Ed offered with a sigh. He was concerned too, but he knew that Riza and Winry would both worry, and he didn't want to make either of them do so unnecessarily. Ed stood up and went to get his coat.

"You're a dear," Winry smiled then turned her attention back to the phone. "Ed's going to go look for him. We'll give you a call back if he doesn't get home first. All right. Talk to you soon." She hung up the phone, her expression softening sadly as she looked down at it. "I feel so bad for them, Ed. Maes was always so calm; so well adjusted and considerate."

"People change, Winry," Ed sighed as he slipped into his long brown winter coat. He came up beside her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "But something this sudden, I don't think it's permanent, not yet. It's always more dramatic when someone who's well behaved acts out because it always comes across as more extreme." He kissed her cheek. "Now you wait here and I'll be back in a little while."

"Do you have any idea where Roy could be?" Winry asked hopefully, turning to look at him.

"Actually," Ed smiled. "I have a pretty _good_ idea."

Ed left the house and drove toward the other side of town. If Roy hadn't gone home, that probably meant he was in a mood he didn't want to share it with Riza. If he was in that bad a mood, there was one place Ed was almost sure to find him.

With the snow, their usual _top secret_ hangout was pretty quiet this evening. With the snow falling it was hard to tell what cars were there, but Ed had a hunch Roy was here anyway. Those hunches were something Roy himself had taught Ed to follow and, as usual, it was right.

He found Roy in the back room at their usual table near the fireplace, nursing down a glass of brandy; if the bottle on the table was an accurate indication. "I thought I'd find you here," Ed commented as he slid into the seat across from the dour-faced one-eyed grouch he knew so well. Roy looked depressed; never a good sign. Over the years Ed had come to realize that Roy Mustang was prone to moods not all that different from his own, and just as often. Only he had learned to control them better, to keep things in, where Ed had always been happy to let it out without any care for who got caught in the whirlwind; at least when he was younger.

Roy looked up at him with a half-hearted smirk. "I'm that predictable."

"Frankly, yes," Ed smirked back, though he didn't have it in his heart to be really callous about it. "Riza's worried about you."

Roy sighed heavily. "I attack my only son for staying out too late drinking and whoring, and here I am. I am such a pathetic hypocrite."

"So what you're saying is we need to fire any cute female secretaries in your office before Riza gets a hold of them," Ed quipped. He knew what Roy really meant _of course._

"Not funny, Edward," Roy glowered. Surprisingly, that was the extent of his response as he drank from his glass.

"No, and neither is this," Ed replied, dropping the sarcasm. "Did something else happen?" He had heard all about the fight with Maes, albeit from Riza telling Winry about it the next day. Roy probably knew he knew, but it had seemed tasteless to bring it up unless Roy did first.

For a minute, he didn't think Roy would talk. "I've been trying to talk to him ever since that night," he said finally, his voice rough with pent-up emotion. "And I can barely get him to stand in my presence. I tried just catching him in his quarters to talk, but every time I went by he wasn't in. One of the other soldiers mentioned that he usually doesn't sleep there at all."

"Not ever?" That didn't sound good, given that Ed was pretty sure Roy had reached the same conclusion about _where_ Maes was spending his nights.

Roy shook his head. "Apparently he usually shows up in the morning to shower at most." He took another drink. "I even tried having Kane tell him to come to my office."

"I bet that didn't go over well," Ed replied.

"He never showed," Roy shrugged. "I tried talking to him in the hall this morning. It was the first time I'd seen his face since that night." He stopped then, staring into the glass, empty save for ice. He looked like a man with little hope, and a lot of frustration.

A waitress came over and asked Ed if he wanted anything. "No thanks," he replied with a polite shake of his head.

Eventually, Roy refilled his glass before continuing. "I'd never seen that look on his face before. I could have dealt with hate, or annoyance, or even disgust."

"What was it?" Ed couldn't help asking.

Roy looked like he might cry. If he did, Ed had no idea what he would do! But he just sighed and answered before drinking. "Fear. My own son, Ed. Have I done anything so terrible that he should fear me?"

A dozen sarcastic cracks came at once to Ed's mind, but he smiled sympathetically and shrugged. "Of course not," he replied. "If he's afraid, it's not you he fears. Maybe it's your disappointment or his own fear of failure. It could be he doesn't want to fight with you again. But if he won't talk to you, all you can really do is keep trying or leave off for a while and let him sort it out himself."

"He could get a court martial," Roy objected.

"It would be a wake-up call," Ed replied, keeping his voice quiet, but firm. "He's a man. Let him deal with the consequences of his actions. The rest of us have had to, haven't we?"

He knew it hurt Roy to consider that, but it was true. If he was true to form, he wanted to save his son from ever making mistakes as dramatically lousy as the ones Roy and Ed had made in their lives. There were plenty of things they would regret, but still might have done the same way given the opportunity to alter the past. "You're right," Roy admitted finally. "Damn it, Ed. Why do I still feel like I failed him somewhere?"

"That's parenthood," Ed replied. "That's love."

Roy didn't seem to have a reply, and they sat in silence for several more minutes while he finished his glass and thought.

Finally, Ed stretched and got up. "You want a lift home?" he offered. "The roads are probably pretty slick by now." And Roy was definitely not in a condition to drive on them but then, he was sure Roy knew that.

"Yeah, thanks." Roy corked the bottle and stood up. "Riza's going to kick my ass for being late."

"Doubt it," Ed chuckled as they walked out. "From the way things sounded on the phone, she'll just be relieved to have you home unharmed."

"She knows I wouldn't do something stupid," Roy snorted.

"Not like trying to kill yourself out of guilt or anything right?" Ed countered pointedly.

"You really like to help me on these little guilt trips don't you, Ed?" Roy looked over at him as they got into the car.

Ed actually barked a laugh as he started the car. Glad that the wind was blowing, and the buildings had kept snow from accumulating too badly on the car. The wipers cleared off the windshield in a few seconds. "Just returning the favor, Roy."

Roy smirked then. "Thanks."

Ed hadn't been gone more than a couple of hours when he made it back to the house. The snow was still falling, but slowly. After dropping Roy off he had driven home slowly to avoid a wreck. He felt terrible for what Roy was going through; Riza and Maes too. Instead of holding together as a family in a tough time, Maes seemed convinced that his parents wouldn't support him, and _that _was tearing the family apart based on a serious misconception far worse than what he had actually done.

When he got inside the house was quiet and mostly dark downstairs. Ethan should be asleep; though of course, should and _were_ often meant two different things! Ed wasn't inclined to be a stickler for bedtime. After all, a few days dragging were a better teacher than getting yelled at. He took his coat off and was about to head to the stairs when the phone rang. Who would call this late?

A door opened upstairs.

"I've got it," Ed called out softly – it was probably Winry – and he went into the living room and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi Dad," Aldon's familiar voice said on the other side of the line.

Immediately Ed's mood brightened. "Hey! Don't tell me they've scheduled you later into the evenings now," he chuckled.

"Sorry for calling so late," Aldon replied. He sounded a little nervous, Ed thought. Or perhaps that was just apologetic. "This was just the best time."

"You know we don't mind," Ed chuckled. "Do you want to talk to your Mom too?"

"Umm, actually, I'd prefer to talk to just you," Aldon replied, definitely nervous this time given how fast he _jumped_ on that suggestion. "At least tonight."

"Sure," Ed replied, frowning a little. "Something wrong?"

"No, nothing's 'wrong,'" Aldon replied, emphasizing the last word. "I just don't want Mom to flip out…yet."

Now Ed was getting suspicious, and concerned anyway. "If nothing's wrong, why would your mother flip?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Cassie and I got married yesterday."

"Oh well in that – wait what!" Ed did a severe double take. Married? "Why the hell would you do that without at least letting us know you—"he couldn't even find the words to express his utter shock and temporary fleeting disbelief. There were only a couple of reasons he could think of that a guy got married without inviting his family to the festivities or giving any prior warning. "Oh hell." He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his hand, a headache starting to form already. "Aldon…how pregnant is she?" His son was right; Winry _was_ going to lose it!

The stunned silence on the other end of the phone was telling. Not a word of denial, shock, or even anger at the suggestion. "Three months," came the resigned yet oddly relieved sounding reply. "Was it really that obvious?"

"Yes," Ed replied with a snort, trying to get his head around the idea without losing his mind or his temper. Aldon married; Cassandra pregnant; not necessarily bad things in and of themselves, but talk about out of the blue! "Might have been nice to know you were at least thinking about getting married," he replied, sounding more annoyed than he'd intended.

Also surprising, Aldon simply sounded contrite as he replied, "I figured Mom might freak out less about the baby if she was pissed about missing the wedding."

It was so absurd, and yet logically _sound_ knowing his wife, that Ed couldn't help but chuckle, and the worst of his anger fizzled before it ever really got going. After all, the deeds – both – were well and done deals. "That's not going to save you from some serious tongue-lashing when she talks to you next. You know that right?"

"Are you mad?" Aldon asked uncertainly.

"I should be," Ed sighed. "But I'm not really. Forgive the expression, but you've made your bed, and now you get to lie in it."

Aldon actually chuckled weakly. "Yeah," he joked softly. "Right now it's getting a little crowded."

If Aldon was joking about it, Ed was more assured that his son hadn't completely taken leave of his senses. Scared young men did not crack jokes like that to their_ fathers._ At least, not in Ed's admittedly limited experience. But after watching Roy and Maes lately, Ed certainly wasn't going to let himself _over_ react if he could keep himself in check. "I can imagine," he replied, smirking. "Well, congratulations. I hope you're both happy with your decision."

"We are," Aldon replied. Even though Ed couldn't see him, it sounded like he was smiling. "I really love her, Dad. We'd already been talking about getting married," he added, sounding like he wanted to be sure Ed understood, but not with forced urgency; more of a half-talking-to-himself explanation. Ed wondered if Aldon was looking at Cassandra at that moment, or if she was listening. "The time table just kind of changed."

"Amazing how the future shows up at your door some days isn't it?" Ed replied, leaning against the wall with one shoulder, "Especially when the clock speeds up."

"Or you're not paying attention," Aldon admitted with a sigh. "I'm elated, and content, and terrified all at the same time. At moments, I'm not even sure how all this happened."

"Can't help you with the falling in love and getting married part of that equation, seeing as you left your Mom and I in the dark for a lot of it apparently," Ed chuckled, a little cruelly he had to admit. "But I'd hoped you were paying attention when I explained how the baby thing works."

"Dad!" Yes, Ed could almost _hear_ his son blushing on the other end of the line. Well, good! He deserved a little ribbing.

"I don't suppose it occurred to you to try _not_ to get her pregnant?" Ed asked, pushing just a little further.

Again, Ed could almost _hear_ rolling eyes; he knew Aldon. "About as much as it obviously occurred to you when you had Ethan, or Sara, or me."

"Hey, _you_ were planned," Ed countered. Why was _he_ suddenly on the defensive here anyway? "And at least we had the means to take care of all three of you."

Aldon didn't respond.

Hell. He was doing it; he was losing his temper. Ed sighed. "Sorry, I'm actually trying not to lecture."

"No, you're right," Aldon commented softly, sounding a little deflated. "We've talked about it, and we're going to come back to Central for a while. It'll be a couple of months – we can't just up and leave our responsibilities here – but it won't be the rest of the winter."

Ed understood that. "Briggs isn't exactly meant to be family friendly," he commented, feeling a little more sympathetic as his system got over the shock. "You're welcome to stay here you know," he said. That was something he did not want his son forgetting. "We've got plenty of room."

"Thanks Dad," Aldon replied, once more sounding a little relieved; as if he had, at least for a little while, doubted if he would still be welcome after what had transpired. "We'd love to. That is, if Mom doesn't skin me on sight."

"I'll tell Winry," Ed sighed. "Though I hope you appreciate the beating I'm probably going to take in your place over this." At least, the first few rounds; He still wasn't entirely sure how he was going to broach this subject! Tonight had already been complicated enough, talking Roy around with his own son problems. Not that _this_, he made himself correct the thought, was really a problem. It was just one of those little left-field smacks that the world liked to throw from time to time.

"Believe me Dad," Aldon chuckled weakly. "I appreciate it. We both do, really. I should get off though before I wake Cassie. Talk to you again in a few days?"

"Of course," Ed smiled. "If there's enough of me left. Good night, Aldon."

"'Night Dad." The line went quiet, then clicked as the call disconnected.

Ed set down the phone and headed for the stairs.

"_What do you mean they got married_?" The screech that came from his wife's mouth only a few minutes later was exactly what Ed had been anticipating. Winry's expression was a combination of fury, hurt, and confusion. "And he didn't even tell us first? Why couldn't they wait until they came home? Or at least have let us know before hand, or something!" She went off on a tear. "Since when are we so incidental that we don't find out the important things _before_ they happen?"

She wasn't taking this well, which meant she really wasn't going to like the rest of the news. Of course, this was why Ed had volunteered to be the one to tell her; saving Aldon the anguish of trying to survive this on the phone or showing up at the door. "There wasn't a lot of time to plan something more formal," Ed explained softly, bracing for the hurricane to come. "Cassie's pregnant."

That stopped Winry cold, her mouth open in a small 'o' as her eyes grew large and round. "Aldon…?" The word was barely more than a squeak.

Ed nodded silently.

"Well that's just great," Winry found her voice again, sarcasm evident as she paced the room, fury rising. "Do children listen to _anything_ their parents tell them? I mean, okay, we've already seen this kind of thing from Maes," she ranted, "But I thought Aldon at least had more sense!"

Ed scowled. "Hold on a minute. We're not talking about the same thing there." Maes Mustang's behavior lately was certainly cause for concern, and more than a little reprehensible, but there was a _critical_ difference between the two situations!

"How can you take this so calmly?" Winry rounded on him. "Don't tell me you approve!"

Ed frowned and sighed, leaning back against the wall, his hands stuffed in his pockets. One of them needed to keep a cool head, and today it was his turn. "I didn't say I was thrilled with the situation, Winry. But sticking by the woman he loves, marrying her and being there for her and their kid; Aldon's acting like an adult, even if that includes all the ways you probably wish he wouldn't. I'd rather he do what he's doing than run out on them, wouldn't you?" That, really, would have been the one thing Ed could not imagine being able to forgive, not even his own son. Not when he could never have forgiven himself if he had done the same thing. In truth, as much as he now understood Hohenheim, and how much closer they _had_ become on the other side of the Gate before the end, he had never completely forgiven the man for that particular mistake.

His response had, for once, rendered Winry momentarily speechless as her mouth worked, but no functional retort emerged. Finally, she sighed and dropped down on the bed, sitting on the edge in her nightgown, looking distraught and frustrated. "I'm glad they got married," she admitted finally. "Or at least, I'm relieved. But with a baby already coming, it just doesn't feel right, Ed. The timing is off."

"The timing is what it is," Ed chuckled, sitting down beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders. "You and I got married almost as soon as you hunted me down. There weren't months of sexual tension mounting between us before hand, and then it didn't really matter as much, did it?"

"Just years of missing you desperately," Winry countered with a small huff of protest.

"We were also older," Ed continued gently. "But we made our decisions without consulting anyone; and we were just lucky no one was conveniently around to _ask_. Well, except Al, who almost shoved us down the aisle," Ed smirked.

"Patience _was_ wearing pretty thin at that point," Winry agreed reluctantly.

"Aldon's made his own choices and he's sticking by them." Ed kissed her forehead. "Cassandra's a very nice young woman, and it seems pretty clear to me that both of these events would have happened eventually, if not necessarily in that order in different circumstances."

"You're almost as insufferable when you're right as when you're wrong," Winry sighed, giving him a small glare.

"I try," Ed laughed; glad the bomb seemed to have been defused, at least for now. Though she still looked upset. "Is something else about this bothering you?"

Winry looked up at him plaintively. "I'm not old enough to be a grandmother!"

**November 23****rd****, 1949**

Sara arrived in Central by train in the early evening, as the sun was going down outside the windows of the car she sat in. She was both looking forward to being home – in truth, she was more than a little homesick for her family more than Central itself – and apprehensive. A year and a half and she still wasn't entirely sure what to do about the mess of a boy situation she had left behind. She wasn't even sure how much of a mess their really _was_ but she had come to a couple of conclusions.

With Franz, she was going to have to come clean and at least tell him how she felt. While nothing would likely ever come of it she knew he would take it well and let her down gently. There were worse things in life.

Maes….well, right now, Maes just had her pissed off. The rumors at Briggs had seemed sensational, entirely _unreal _at first. But she heard the same ones over and over, and if they were true than he certainly hadn't been interested in her enough to wait for her to come back! When she left in a hurry, what she had really wanted to do was apologize for hurting his feelings, and explain that his declaration had just come at a really inopportune moment. She cared very deeply about Maes, but she wasn't sure it was more than close friendship; almost as close, once, with him as she had been to her brothers. If there was more to her own feelings than that, she really wasn't sure. Nor was she entirely ready to find out until she really knew what she _wanted_ out of a relationship. They were so impractical right now as it was.

But if the reports she had heard were true, what she really wanted to do to Maes Mustang right now was _kick his ass._

That could wait though. What Sara really wanted was to fall into the waiting arms of her parents and littlest brother, eat a home cooked meal, take a ridiculously long shower, sleep for a week, and catch up with all her friends; roughly in that order, but she was willing to be flexible after her family.

It was, fortunately, too late in the evening to report in to Central HQ, so Sara headed straight for her parents' house. The look on her mother's face when she opened the door was worth the surprise.

"Hey, Mom," Sara grinned impishly. "I was in the neighborhood."

Winry caught her up in the hug Sara had been looking forward to for so long, and she hugged her mother tightly back. "It's so good to see you," Winry sounded like she might cry, but her smile told Sara that if she did it was because she was happy and relieved. "Come in out of the cold." She ushered Sara inside.

Sara laughed. "It's warm compared to Briggs," she replied as she hung up her coat on the rack.

"So I hear." The sudden change in Winry's tone caught Sara's attention, and she suspected that the mention of Briggs was the cause. "Have you seen Aldon then?"

"I have," Sara replied, hoping this wasn't going to get ugly three seconds in the door. She decided it might be wiser not to say anything else. "Where are Dad and Ethan?" she asked, realizing the house was quiet and eager _not _to get on that subject immediately.

"Out back," Winry smiled a little again. "Transmuting snow I think. They looked like they were turning blue almost an hour ago, but they won't come in. At this point I'm not sure if they're actually being productive or if they're each too stubborn to call it quits before the other one does."

"I can fix that," Sara grinned. She walked to the back door that led on to the deck and leaned out. Her father and brother were easily visible near the corner of the yard in thick winter coats. "Well this is a fine welcome home I get!" she shouted, making them both jump – almost identical really, it was funny – and stare before grinning. Immediately they were both heading for the house and Sara found herself tackled into a bear hug by her father _and_ her not-so-little baby brother at the same time!

"You didn't warn us you were coming home," Ed laughed as he closed the door and pulled off his snow-drenched hat and gloves.

"Warn?" Sara smirked. "What would you have done, barricaded the doors?"

"Nah," Ethan laughed.

"What were you doing outside anyway?" she asked curiously.

"Ice sculptures, without tools," her father laughed. It was almost too dark to see them at this point, but Sara could understand why they had been doing it; good practice that required some finer work, but far too much fun not to play!

"I'll have to see them in the morning," Sara smiled then felt a yawn coming that split her face wide open. "Wow, sorry," she chuckled. "Long trip."

"Only a year and a half," Ethan grinned standing up next to her; still shorter, but less so. "Wow, Sis, you got shorter again!"

"Very funny," Sara rolled her eyes.

"Have you had dinner?" Winry asked, interjecting before the conversation turned into a brother-sister wrestling match which, Sara had to admit, it just might have if she weren't beat.

"Just a snack on the train," Sara replied, sitting down on the couch. Ethan dropped down next to her and Ed took the easy chair. "It is so good to be home," she sighed, falling against the couch-back and sinking into the cushions. Compared to her sleeping and traveling accommodations for as long as she could immediately recall, this was luxury!

"Well I've still got leftovers on the stove," Winry smiled. "I'll just warm them up."

"Thanks, Mom. You have no idea how much I've missed your cooking," Sara grinned.

"But I do," Ed chuckled. "Hey, Winry, is there any of that pie left?"

"Not for you," she retorted from the kitchen. "You already _had _four pieces! Leave some for Sara."

Ed shrugged and leaned back in the chair. "So, your last stop was Briggs."

"Yes," Sara replied. Okay, so that discussion was definitely going to be tonight. "Did Aldon call you? He promised me he would."

Ed smirked at that. "To keep you from having to face the typhoon I take it," he nodded towards the kitchen.

"I heard that!" Winry called back.

"Exactly," Sara smiled, relieved. Her parents knew, and her father was joking, both good signs. "So you know then."

"About the marriage and the baby," Ed confirmed. "It was a heck of a shock, but there are much worse things that can happen to someone in life; and both of those are good things in perspective. It'll just take a little getting used to."

"And how," Sara agreed. She didn't think Aldon had made a mistake marrying Cassandra, or she would never have agreed to be at the wedding or transmuted the ring. "I had good timing," she admitted then. "I arrived the night before the wedding. Caught Aldon pretty off guard since it was an unannounced visit," she chuckled. "But I think they'll be fine, Dad. They're handling the whole thing with the same maturity and sickening romance I'd expect out of you and Mom!"

"Hopefully _more_ maturity," Ed laughed. "At that age, I probably would have panicked."

"You_ did_ panic when I told you I was pregnant with Sara," Winry commented as she returned with a plate of white sausages, vegetables, and noodles. "And we were married and a few years older!"

"Exactly!" Ed countered, pointing at her for emphasis.

Sara took the plate, the scent of food whetting her appetite, and she dug in. It was even better than she remembered.

"There _is_ a blackberry pie, well, part of one, in the refrigerator if you want some later," Winry chuckled. "Though I can't promise it will still be there in the morning. We have pie-rats." Her eyes shifted a glance between Ed and Ethan, who both did a very poor job of looking innocent.

"Then I'll just have to make sure to pillage my share tonight," Sara played off her mother's rather amusing pun. "Can I catch a ride back to the apartment though?" It was dark, snowy, and she really didn't feel like walking.

"Why don't you stay here tonight?" Ed offered immediately. Sara already knew her old room had been turned into an alchemy laboratory for Ed and Ethan, and she certainly didn't mind. Actually, she was more eager to _join_ them in it at some point. The guest room would be fine with her.

"That would be perfect," Sara smiled over her plate. She should have expected the offer really; even after a year and a half, there really wasn't any place she would rather be than _home._

**November 24****th****, 1949**

Sara reported in to HQ the next morning, filed her report, exchanged a few minutes of banter with Colonel Kane – who was almost the only person she had talked to at all regularly it seemed – and then was promptly told she was going to be stationed in Central for at _least _the next couple of months. _Her_ rotation taking the brunt of Amestris' alchemical run-around was over for now/ Besides, Kane had joked, it would take that long to reorganizing the system for sending out state alchemists and getting them to properly _file_ their mission reports!

Sara had seen no sign of Maes Mustang or Franz Heimler that day, and she didn't ask after them. She wanted to get settled and relax a little before she tackled_ those_ challenges. Being stationed back at HQ wasn't a vacation, but it almost felt like one. She did run into a couple of friends who insisted they all go out that night, and she agreed eagerly; familiar social contact at last!

Briefly dropping by the apartment to change into something more suitable for _going out_ – which, in this weather, meant warm pants and a sweater under her purple coat – revealed a small pile of unopened mail that included two letters from Mars Leighton, postmarked twelve months ago on one of them and three months ago on the other. She decided to read them later and hoped he understood that she had been entirely unavailable to respond. She did not need the potential angst tonight however. This was going to be a night out, just for the fun of it. Galina and Ragnar were both State Alchemists from the class before hers, and they got along much better with Sara than her own year-mates had. Trevor and Raquelle weren't, but they worked in Kane's office. They were all colleagues whose company she enjoyed and who didn't stress her out on a regular basis!

All right, so it wasn't anything fancy. They were just going to one of the clubs in town for a couple of drinks, some conversation, maybe a little dancing. If nothing else, the place usually had a pretty good music act.

Tonight proved to be no exception. The music was good and the place wasn't too crowded on a weeknight, even when the unusually early winter weather had driven a lot of people indoors. They took a table near the dance floor where they could hear the musicians, but were far enough away to talk quietly. They ordered drinks and got down to the primary order of business for the evening; filling Sara in on months of missed info on what was going on in Central.

They were half way through a story about someone pranking the Mess staff and getting busted for it, when Raquelle looked past Sara's head and grimaced. "Great. I didn't realize the place was _infested_."

Sara blinked and turned to see what she meant. Maes was sitting at the bar. She turned around again, simply determined to ignore his presence unless he saw her. "Are the rumors true?" she asked softly.

"If you've heard them, probably every one," Ragnar replied with a sad shake of the head.

"Even being that cute doesn't make up for being a frickin' troll," Raquelle griped, then looked up at Sara and looked contrite. "Sorry, I know you were friends."

"Don't worry about it," Sara sighed. "Just ignore him."

"Can do," Galina shrugged and drank her beer.

Ragnar asked Sara a question about the South-East region, since he was going there in a couple of weeks on a mission, and Sara was happy to oblige him with all she knew about the area from Resembool on down into the Ishbal region.

"You want to dance?" Trevor asked Raquelle when the explanation started getting long.

"Sure!" she laughed, getting up. "No work-talk on free time."

"It's not work," Ragnar countered, "Just good conversation!"

"And travel tips," Sara chuckled. "The most important thing to remember though is where to get a good cold drink when you get down into the desert areas!"

The first sign that there was trouble was the sound of an argument. Sara could almost feel the hairs on the back of her neck rising from the tension mounting, and she and Ragnar both turned around. _Oh hell._

"I told you to leave her alone." One guy was up in Maes' face, clearly pissed off.

Maes smirked. "That's not what she told me, and I _always_ listen to a lady."

"I am so sick of your smug--" the other man didn't even finish the sentence; he just swung at Maes, who dodged and came up with a swing into the guy's gut. In moments it was a brawl.

_Bloody stupid_…Sara scowled. "I've got it," she motioned Ragnar back into his seat as she pulled out her gloves, slid them on, and smirked at him.

A rod of near-solid air forced itself between the two fighting men, fitting neatly into a very small space, then widening into a flat plane and _shoving_ them both backwards physically. Maes grunted and nearly tripped over a chair, the other guy slammed back into a table as Sara stepped physically between them. "That's_ enough _gentlemen!"

The club bartender looked startled, but didn't move to intervene when the fighting stopped cold. The other guy –taller than Maes, and blond- scowled and Maes looked like he was going to object.

"This isn't some dive," Sara glared between them both. "You," she looked at the blond, "Go back to your friends, have a drink, or go home. You," she grabbed Maes by the collar of his shirt, "Are in serious trouble." With that she dragged him outside; his only protest a squeak of surprise until they were out in the snow. Sara let go of him then with a shove that sent him back a couple of steps. Up close, he looked lousy; and he smelled like liquor. "What the hell were you _thinking_?" she yelled at him, her temper rising. She'd been angry about the rumors; the reality of them _really_ pissed her off!

"Me?" Maes blinked, staring a moment. "He's the one who hit me first. When did you get back?"

"Yesterday," Sara replied. "And that's not what I'm talking about you asshole and you know it!" She glared at him, getting right up in his face. No matter how strange he was acting, or how stupid, she _did not_ fear Maes Mustang. "You used to have morals. You _used_ to have a sense of decorum. Hell, you used to have _taste_!"

"You're one to give a lecture on _that_," Maes snorted. "Or is Calvin Fischer the height of fashion now?"

Sara's jaw dropped. "How did you find out about that?" she asked harshly.

"A reliable source," Maes smirked. "_First person_ you might say. So don't go lecturing me about my taste in women. In my mind, it's improved."

He'd just as good as called her a whore…for _one_ brief tryst that he obviously had no clue about the situation, or didn't care. "Damn it, Mustang." She slugged him, full left fist in the face just on principle!

Maes was too surprised that she'd struck to get a block up in time and he staggered backwards, one hand going to his right cheek. "You bitch!" he glared at her and tried to swing back, but Sara dodged him easily, even on the slick concrete. He was too drunk to react fast enough and she knew it.

"Such clever wit," Sara countered, sarcasm dripping. She didn't hit him again, just backed up. She wasn't trying to start a fight on the street, no matter how badly Maes was obviously spoiling for one. "Glad to see you've been putting your talents to good use, Firebrand. That name seems to fit you better now somehow."

Maes' face went red with rage and he swung again, missing as Sara moved again. He was an excellent fighter, but not good enough to beat her if he wasn't sober. She was actually surprised he was able to manage this much and knew it was anger and adrenaline that he was running on now. He stopped then, panting, and a slightly feral smirk crept onto his face. "You think so? How about a demonstration?"

Sara realized a second later that he'd pulled out a glove like his father's. In a second it was on his hand and she registered that he was really serious with_ just _enough time to bring up a wall of air that a burst of flame splattered against. "Are you crazy?" she shouted over it. "What the hell did I do to deserve that?"

The flames stopped momentarily. "How easily women forget," Maes snorted.

Oh _god_, this couldn't be about their fight still could it? Was this some grudge? "Forget what?" she countered. "That you were the one who chose a public place to display your most private feelings? That you didn't take into account how I might be feeling at the time?" She didn't yell, but she wasn't going to let him get away with vilifying her for no good reason. "I never even turned you _down_ you idiot!"

"No, you just avoided me," Maes countered, and Sara blocked and dodged another blast of fire. This was _insane._ "You're the one who couldn't make up her mind. At least I was honest!"

"I never lied to you," Sara replied as the fight continued. This was getting ridiculous. She had to get him to stop before there was actually _damage_ done! The few people in the streets were vacating quickly. She struck again, smacking him around with the cold air around them more than anything else; trying to keep him too distracted to flambé her. "I'm not even mad at you; at least, not about that."

"Then what?" Maes took the bait.

"How could you do this to your _parents_?" Sara asked him. "I saw your Dad earlier today Maes, and he looked like he'd aged five years in less than two! And what about your mother? It's not like you were the product of careless parents who didn't sacrifice a _hell _of a lot to make sure you were happy and healthy and felt loved. You never had any complaints about them. Don't forget that I _know_ you!"

Maes' expression darkened further. Drunk, distraught, he couldn't hide from her words, or her. His guilt was blatantly clear.

Time to drop the last bomb in her arsenal. "Is that even really Maes in there? Cause the one I knew had a _soul_."

She didn't have to say it more directly for him to catch on that she was insulting him by inferring he might be a homunculus. She watched him snap, watched his fingers come up, and then she struck, sending the wind whipping around them in a gale force blast that almost knocked them both to the ground.

Maes' fingers came together. There was a spark… and nothing happened.

"Hard to fight when the air won't hold still isn't it?" Sara replied calmly though she had to shout to be heard. "Disrupts your alchemy doesn't it? That's enough Maes."

With the last blast Maes staggered, then fell against the side of the building. When he slid down into the snow against the wall, Sara dropped the wind and came forward, crouching beside him. He was blinking; a little unfocused.

Footsteps behind her made her turn. Ragnar was standing above her, holding her coat. "Nice work," he commented simply. "I thought you might need this."

"Thanks," Sara nodded, slipping into her coat while Ragnar held it for her. Despite the adrenaline coursing through her she was getting pretty cold!

"What are you going to do with him?" Ragnar asked, pointing down at Maes.

"Drag his ass home and chew him out when he's sober enough to appreciate it," Sara replied with a long-suffering sigh. Apparently some time apart had been good for her, but quite the opposite for Maes; and she was _not_ going to accept the guilt for his behavior. This was all his doing, and she was pissed at him for doing it to himself!

"Need some help?" Ragnar chuckled.

"Thanks, but I can handle him," Sara smiled sadly. "I may be one of the only people around here who doesn't hate him. Mad as I am, he's kind of like one of my brothers."

"Your call," Ragnar shrugged. "If he shows up hung over again though, I hear Kane's going to have to take more_ serious measures_ than a couple of reprimands on his record."

Sara sighed but she wasn't surprised. "Thanks for the warning. Tell the others thanks for tonight. I think I'm going to be cleaning up this mess for a while though."

"Sure," Ragnar nodded. "By the way, Mister Yeren wanted to say thanks for stopping the fight inside, and for not destroying the street out front either," he added with a smirk.

Yeren was the owner's name, Sara remembered. "Tell him _you're welcome_ for me." She crouched down then. "You conscious?" she asked Maes.

He glowered sourly at her, but the knocks to the head had compounded with the alcohol, and she knew he'd be passing out before too much longer.

When he didn't respond verbally, Sara got down under his arm. "You're going to have to do your part. I'm not hauling your sorry ass all the way back on my own."

"Fine," Maes replied shortly and staggered to his feet with her help.

That was all Sara got out of him as she bothered to pay for a taxi and headed back to the apartment. She sure wasn't going to go dragging him into the barracks on _base _like this! By the time she got Maes upstairs he was unresponsive. With a sigh, Sara dumped him on her couch, pulled a blanket over his unconscious form, and headed for bed.

Sometimes, she was just _too_ nice.

**November 25****th****, 1949**

Whatever he was lying on wasn't particularly familiar; but then, that wasn't an unusual feeling for Maes lately. Neither was the hangover. His head felt like a kettle drum stuffed with sheep's wool, his tongue thick, and his stomach like he'd been hit in the gut repeatedly. Maes forced his eyes open long enough to take in his surroundings. After several blurry seconds he focused on the edge of a coffee table, and some soft green walls; wooden floors. It was familiar.

Damn it, this was_ Sara's _apartment! His foggy brain offered up the alcohol-blotted memories of the night before. Had he really _attacked_ Sara? Shit! He hadn't meant for that to happen. Of course, she _had_ shown up without any warning and then she'd said all those things like she knew exactly where to hit him emotionally and make the guilt sting the most. It would be best if he got up and left before she was awake.

Maes sat up and realized his mistake too late as he doubled over, emptying his stomach as a wave of nausea hit him.

"You can cover the bill for getting my couch and my carpet professionally cleaned as a thank you," Sara commented calmly, sounding a little amused, from somewhere out of sight. "That's what the bucket was for."

Only then did Maes notice the bucket on the floor beside the couch. "Sorry," he murmured, feeling more pathetic and embarrassed by the moment. Could this situation be any worse?

Sara came into his line of sight and crouched down in front of him. "You look like shit, Mustang." She actually _smiled _as she said it too! "Of course, after the rumors I've been hearing '_all over Amestris_' I guess I shouldn't be surprised." She sighed then and stood. "Anything to say for yourself?"

"Like what?" Maes grumbled. She was enjoying his torment too much for his liking.

Her expression turned to the scowl he had seen last night. "How about '_thanks for pulling my ass out of a fight that would have gotten me landed in the brig for three days or busted down a rank for sure?_' I brought you _here_ so no one in the barracks would see you drunk off your ass, beaten to a pulp, being dragged in by a _girl_ last night. If nothing else at least I saved some shred of your pride, for what little that's worth."

Good answer. Maes sighed, swallowed, and remained hunched forward, aware at any moment he might vomit again, though he had to look _up_ with his eyes to see her expression. "You sound sure of yourself," he quipped bitterly.

"I was the sober one," Sara shrugged, arms crossed under her breasts. "You ruined a perfectly nice evening I was having. Of course, that's not really your fault; it's mine for getting involved."

"As long as you realize that," Maes replied. Misery really _didn't_ need company.

"You know I meant what I said last night right?" Sara asked.

Maes looked up again, confused. He wasn't sure he remembered _everything_ she had said at this point. "Meaning?"

"Hopeless," Sara shook her head. "I mean I never did actually turn you down. You just had really lousy timing that night and I couldn't deal with it. I over-reacted, and then we both got hustled out of town before I got the chance to apologize."

A weight seemed to lift from his heart, to drop like lead into his stomach. Damn, he was an idiot. "And Cal?"

Perhaps that was the wrong response, because her expression turned to hurt, then annoyance. "Comfort in a really stressful situation and none of your business. You haven't been acting much like my _friend_ Maes while I was gone. I mean, what the_ hell_ is with you anyway? Getting drunk every night; sleeping with, I don't _want_ to know how many women," she exclaimed, "Running your career into the ground; not to mention your name and your parents'! By the way, despite minimal evidence to the contrary, that's really _not_ my preferred date material."

"Can we discuss this when I'm not dying?" Maes asked. He really wasn't up to this! It was cruel, and he wasn't ready.

"I'd rather talk to you when you're too hung-over and vulnerable to come up with a good lie," Sara replied humorlessly. "I'm_ worried _about you, and if this was some poorly planned attempt to get over me on your part, I'd say you massively screwed up. But fine, if you promise me we'll talk about this later – and sober – I'll let you weasel out of it for the moment."

"Thanks," Maes replied then, meaning it. He'd forgotten how stubborn she could get when she was mad, and she was very obviously furious with him! It told him how badly he had failed, too, that even with her looking at him last night in disgust, and now in anger, she still struck him as incredibly beautiful. The feelings of shame and guilt he had tried to drink away for the last month seemed suddenly overwhelming. "And I'm…sorry."

"It's a start," Sara sighed. "I need to get over to HQ." It was then that he realized she was already dressed in uniform. "You're welcome to my shower and there's some leftover chicken in the refrigerator and tea in the pot if you can keep anything down." She grabbed her coat and headed for the door. "Lock up when you leave please. I don't really expect you to be in any shape to be useful today, but show up _presentable_ or not at all. Don't make a liar out of me, Mustang." With that, she was gone.

Maes watched her go; stunned, relieved, terrified, and nauseous all at once. It was not a comfortable combination. What, he wondered as he lay slowly back down on the couch, did she mean by that last line?

Sara reported in on time, as usual, but she found that Kane had a question that fell rather outside of the usual when she was done discussing some of the finer points of the new reporting system.

"I heard there was an altercation downtown last night," Kane commented as they finished up and Sara was putting her papers away. "Something involving alchemists; a brawl stopped by a girl in a purple coat and a fight involving_ fire_?"

Oh great. Sara had truly hoped that wouldn't come to Kane's attention, but had known that hope was probably minor, especially with four of their co-workers at the place last night _minimum_. "I did break up a fight last night," she nodded. "Didn't take much really."

"It didn't get out of control then?" Kane asked with a skeptical frown.

"No, it never got out of my control," Sara replied straight-faced. It wasn't a lie technically. She had certainly never felt she had _lost_ control of the situation!

"So Mustang wasn't a problem then," Kane pressed.

Sara shrugged. "He was upset. He came over to my place afterwards. We were catching up some, and it was late. He slept on my couch."

Kane looked thoughtful for a moment, and Sara knew he _had _to know she was covering for Maes and the details of what had really happened, but he didn't call her on it. "So where is he this morning?"

"He wasn't feeling well," Sara answered. "Though he might be in later."

"I see. Well, I hope he's feeling more like himself later then," Kane replied, and Sara had to resist the urge to ask him exactly what he meant. Kane was as worried about Maes as she was; or so she thought. Sara found his choice of words appropriate to her earlier conversation with Maes. "That's all, Elric," he looked up at her. Yeah, he had to know.

"Thank you, Sir," Sara replied, heading out of his office and down to her own, where she sat down at an available desk and got to work figuring out how she was going to implement Kane's new plan. It was going to be an interesting assignment.

* * *

Maes actually made it to the office at HQ just before lunch. He had passed out again on Sara's couch, much to his own embarrassment, and vomited three more times before his stomach had seemed to settle at all. He had taken down a lot of water, a little tea, and a couple of slices of bread he found in the bread box. He hadn't felt comfortable actually _using_ Sara's shower. So he had taken off the sweater he had been wearing over his shirt since it was the only soiled layer, cleaned up the mess he had made of Sara's place, and headed back to the barracks. Fortunately, at that time of day almost no one saw him go into his quarters. Maes showered, changed, and reported in. He felt half-dead, but he was sober.

"So you decided to show up after all," Kane commented after Maes had closed the door behind him and come to stand at attention in front of his desk.

"Yes, Sir," Maes replied. He had gotten chewed out enough by the Colonel lately, and he was frankly expecting it again this morning. He wasn't disappointed.

"I heard about last night, Mustang," Kane said flatly. "It was in a news report this morning, without names save for Elric's keeping the peace, fortunately for you – but several reports from folks who work around here put you at the scene."

Maes winced but held his tongue; objecting now would just make him look bad, and yelling would hurt his still aching head. "Yes, Sir." Sara had been out with friends; they had probably told Kane _everything_. Maes just wondered who it had been or if it _could_ have been someone else?

"What am I going to do with you?" Kane shook his head, sounding more than a little disgusted. "That's it, _Major_. I'm not putting up with this crap you keep pulling anymore. I've had enough of your attitude and your behavior; the flagrant disregard for position and public perception."

This was it. Maes was screwed. He squared himself and prepared for the worst.

"That's why I'm putting you on official probation and assigning you to assist the Twilight Alchemist with the Alchemist report system reorganization project until further notice."

That was… _not_ what Maes had been expecting. "Yes, Sir. Permission to ask a question, Sir?"

"Permission granted," Kane replied, surprise evident in his face that Maes had actually _asked_. He hadn't in a while. Maybe the man just wanted to know what Maes was going to say.

"Why Sara Elric, Sir?" Kane had to know they weren't exactly on the best of terms right now. He was in too tight with Fullmetal, and Maes' father for that matter. Maes couldn't fathom why he was being assigned to a project Sara was in charge of instead of getting busted down to Second Lieutenant, or some other fitting punishment.

Kane gave him a slightly amused smirk. "Because for some reason I can't fathom, she was in here this morning bailing you out."

Maes blinked. She did? Was that what she'd meant earlier about not making her out to be a liar? "May I ask what she said, Sir?"

Kane actually chuckled, though he didn't look amused anymore. "It was damage control, nothing more. If you want the details you can ask her for them yourself. I'll tell you this though, Mustang. If I hear one word of complaint from her about your behavior or your work, you _will_ be facing much harsher disciplinary measures."

"I think you may be underestimating her harshness, Sir," Maes commented.

"Oh no," Kane shook his head. "I know fully well what she's capable of, Mustang, and since she seems to be the only one around here lately who can put you in your place, that seems the best assignment to give you. There will be no more first-pick missions for you unless you can prove yourself to be a reliable officer."

Not a when; but an _if_. There was no guarantee now that Maes would actually get to keep his position, State Alchemist or no. Maes wanted to rant and rave, but he bit his tongue and nodded instead. "Yes, Sir." It was more than fair and, really, a lot more than he deserved.

"However, you can start that work tomorrow," Kane said then, nodding with satisfaction when Maes didn't object. "For today, I have several errands that need running around Headquarters." He stuck a list over the desk. "Get them done by the end of the day."

Maes took the list and felt the heat rise in his face; fetching books from the First Branch – it had been rebuilt years ago – running paperwork up to President Breda's office, fetching coffee from a specific little place he liked…. These were errands_ anyone _could do! Of course, that was probably the point.

He almost argued; but the fact that Sara had stood up for him _after_ last night had him stunned and confused. Maes couldn't risk 'her' reputation on his own idiocy. "I'm on it."

"Good," Kane nodded once more. "Dismissed."

* * *

Sara's eyes were beginning to cross when she finally took a break from looking through old records and comparing them to the official records Kane had of who had been sent out where, to find out which past reports were still missing or incomplete. The re-organization of the files themselves would not be complicated, just time consuming. Filling in the gaps and discovering who weren't making their reports was a little more complicated.

She had worked through lunch, gratefully thanking a Sergeant she had asked to get her something from the Mess. Still, she couldn't work through dinner too. Well, she probably could, but she was going over to her folks' for dinner and they wouldn't hold it forever. Glancing at the clock, she realized her father had probably already left!

Sara gathered her things and headed out of the office. She did check her father's office and found that he and Uncle Al had already gone home for the day. Sara was on the front steps when she heard a "Hey, Sara!" from behind her. Turning, she spotted Franz Heimler striding toward her, smiling. Her heart fluttered, but she quashed it.

"Hi, Franz," she replied, pushing a smile to her face. It wasn't too hard, despite her resolution to admit her feelings at some point that came to the forefront of her mind. It had been a long time since they had talked.

"I heard you were back," he smiled, stopping beside her. "Don't tell me you worked this late on your second day back?"

"I lost track of time," Sara admitted, "Kind of got caught up in a task. What about you?" she asked; an eyebrow quirking curiously.

"Same thing," Franz admitted with a laugh. His easy smile made her heart ache. "You want to get some dinner then?" he offered.

"Won't Gina object?" The words were out of Sara's mouth before she registered what she was saying, and she blushed when she sounded a little skeptical.

Franz's expression fluttered, his smile fading a little. "I forgot you might not have heard," he shrugged. "We broke up a few months ago."

"You did?" Now she felt even _worse_! "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Franz smiled again. "It's not like you had anything to do with it. It didn't work out, but these things happen. So, dinner? I'd like the chance to catch up with you. I was glad to get your letters, but I know you had a lot more going on than what little I was privileged to receive."

Privileged; He always made things sound more special than they seemed to her. "I'm supposed to have dinner with my folks," Sara replied apologetically. "But…I have time for a quick coffee or something." It was a chance to spend some time with Franz, and talk; she_ wasn't _going to pass up the opportunity.

"I'll take coffee," Franz smiled. "Got a preference as to where?"

"There's a place on the way to my apartment," Sara replied. She needed to go home and change anyway.

The walk over to the little coffee shop was pleasant, though Franz did most of the question asking, and Sara told him about various missions and elaborated on things from her letters. She was glad he was curious; it kept her from asking more about Gina. She didn't want to hurt him, but with Gina out of the picture she felt selfishly glad not to have to worry about hurting some_ other _girl's feelings.

They ordered coffee and sat down at one of the little tables. Being dinner time, the place was almost entirely empty, but Sara was glad for the privacy. After a couple of minutes, Franz smiled, a little embarrassed. "I probably shouldn't bring this up, but I heard you ran into a little trouble in town last night."

"Word gets around doesn't it," Sara sighed and shrugged. "Nothing I couldn't handle." She wasn't sure she wanted to know where this was going.

"That was pretty clear too," Franz smiled kindly. "I just, I don't know," he admitted. "I guess I just wanted to make sure you were doing all right. That must have been difficult – emotionally I mean – given how close the two of you used to be."

It was the first time all day that Sara had been offered any kind of consolation that actually showed that someone_ understood_ how she felt about the whole thing! She had been told several times she should have left him in the snow, or been congratulated for what she had done. No one seemed to care, or remember, that Maes was not an antagonist in her life; annoying perhaps, and right now confusing, but not the _villain_ in some story. "It wasn't hard to stop him," she admitted quietly. "But I've seen people try and walk that line and fail. I don't want to see that happen to him but Maes…." She sighed. "The situation with Maes is complicated."

"Because of how he feels about you?"  
Sara looked up at him sharply then shook her head. Of course Franz knew. He had been at that stupid dinner forever ago as well, and he was in Breda's office. How could he not? "That's a large part of it," she admitted and, despite the fact that it should seem bizarre to her to be telling a man she found very attractive this story, it was Franz. Sara had told him things for so long that it just came out. She told him a slightly edited version of the original fight and Maes' admission and Sara's reaction. Franz listened, sympathetic but quiet, letting her talk. When she got to Mars showing up on her doorstep and _their_ little interaction, he actually winced.

"Bad timing is a typical male trait," Franz commented, sounding a little like he was apologizing for half the species. Sara could live with that.

"When I talked to him the next day though," Sara continued, "I couldn't help but feel bad for Mars; that I just don't love him that way. I actually felt a little guilty though I know I shouldn't have."

"It's natural," Franz replied. "You're still friends and you are a very _caring_ person."

"Thanks," Sara blushed slightly. "I have a couple of letters waiting from him I haven't read yet. I'm almost afraid to." She knew she would anyway. "Though the fact that he wrote at all is, I hope, a positive sign. My _discussion_ with Maes last night was not so pleasant."

"So I gathered," Franz sipped from his mug. His calm and patience had always made him a good listener and observer. The fact that he was willing to listen to her ramble about her guy problems was a blessing really. "He's been getting rather steadily worse since then, much as I hate to say it. It got worse this summer though, and I'm not sure what the trigger was. Honestly, he wasn't too bad until then."

Sara felt her face flush. She knew why now. "He found out about a brief… assignation I had last year, from the source."

Franz's eyebrows rose and he looked startled. Sara could imagine why. "That would explain it," was all he said in response.

"It wasn't serious, or long," Sara sighed, admitting the rest. "But Maes seems to be getting skilled at drastic over-reaction. It would be easier if I could just tell him one way or the other how I feel but…"

"But you're not sure?" Franz asked.

"Not at all," Sara sighed. "I don't _think_ I love him like that. I mean, he's like a brother to me and we were very close, but even now after months to think about it I'm still confused and right now he just pisses me off. And yet I can't just leave it be. I can't watch him throw his life away. I really don't think he wants to either."

"He probably isn't completely sure what he wants at this point," Franz replied, shrugging. "Sometimes it's not what we think we want after all. He's lucky to have you for a friend though," he smiled. "Everyone needs someone to beat a little sense into them from time to time."

"Sometimes literally," Sara quipped. "I could wish we had a little more distance for a while, but for some reason Colonel Kane assigned him to_ my project_." She snorted and finished her coffee. "He said I was the only one who had proven to have any chance of '_keeping him in line_' lately, so he was assigning Maes to work under me until further notice." The _notice_ had been an understated official memo. Wise on Kane's part probably; Sara had wanted to scream as it was when she got it.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Franz smiled. "That is a bit bizarre given your history, but also understandable. Mustang did show up for work today, despite last night's little altercation, right? Maybe you said something that got through to him."

"I hope so." Sara wasn't sure she could do much else.. "I know Kane wouldn't try and force anything personal by putting us together, but I really wish he didn't trust me _quite_ so much to keep Maes in line! That seems like a lot of responsibility." She started into her cup, scowling. "So much trouble, and none of it from a guy I'd actually _lik_' to be bothered by!" she exclaimed.

Franz chuckled, his soft eyes amused when Sara looked up at the sound. "At last we dig up the real root of your frustration, Belle. Welcome to humanity; that is an ancient cry that has gone up to the heavens for generations."

Sara hadn't been expecting the humor, and she cracked a small smile without meaning to. "I didn't ask for life to be this complicated when I'm not even dating," she grumbled. "There's supposed to be at least that much of a reward for this kind of chaos right?"

"I suppose you could look at it like that," Franz laughed. "But as long as you're technically available, you will find that guys are persistent and eager to chase."

"You'd know," Sara smirked. "So I guess I'll have to take your word for it." There really wasn't going to be a better time to tell him, she suspected. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth before she lost her nerve. "Franz I…I have a confession to make."

"On top of what you've already told me today?" Franz sounded startled, if slightly amused. "You really have been penning things up inside for a while haven't you?" His smile softened. "Go ahead, Sara. You know you can tell me anything."

Sara _knew _she was going to blush from her head to her toes. "The biggest complicating factor in the whole mess is… well, that _you're_ the one I _know_ I like." There, it was out. She braced for the worst, but hoped that because it was _Franz_ he would at least have the decency not to laugh!

His expression turned immediately to one of surprise, then acceptance, and Franz smiled, looking embarrassed himself. "I'm flattered, Sara," he replied. "I guess I should have seen that coming, huh?" He chuckled then. "No wonder you were avoiding me when I started seeing Gina."

"I wasn't _avoiding_ you," Sara countered, caught a little off-guard by the reaction. "I just wanted to give you space. You know, most girls get antsy if their boyfriends spend a lot of time with female friends."

"Point taken," Franz sighed. "But I should have been a little more aware of your feelings too, Sara," he replied, surprising her. "We've been friends for a long time, and I kind of figured out you had a crush on me out East." Now _he_ looked uneasy! "I just had no idea you still felt anything, you know? Not after I knew you'd found a boyfriend."

"I was a kid then," Sara nodded. "It's not something you should have noticed, Franz. I've been trying to keep it discrete for a long time. That was part of why I blew up at Maes," she finally admitted. "He called me on it, and then I yelled at _him_ when he finally admitted how long he'd been interested in me. I feel like a real hypocrite, and all I was trying to do was not make anybody uncomfortable or unhappy." She rubbed her face with her hands.

"I appreciate that," Franz replied, and his tone made her look up. "Most friends aren't nearly so understanding. You're a rare and special one."

The _but_ had to be coming in here somewhere. Sara had not expected a long conversation, just a '_that's nice_' and a gentle let down. "I'm glad someone thinks so." She doubted Maes did right now.

"And any man would be crazy not to be interested in you," Franz finished.

Sara sighed. "That's nice of you to…say." She looked up at him, startled, then suspicious. "_Any_ man?"

Franz laughed outright. "Don't look so surprised. Of course I'm flattered you like me, and I'd be lying if I hadn't entertained thoughts of asking _you_ out as more than friends on more than one occasion."

"Then…why didn't you?" Sara exclaimed, still rather stunned!

"Our friendship means a lot to me," Franz explained gently. "I didn't want to risk straining it, or making you feel awkward or thinking I was friends with you for that reason more than anything else."

"I never would have thought that," Sara replied. "You're not that kind of guy."

"Try convincing most girls of that," Franz sighed, and Sara got the feeling that perhaps the break-up with Gina had not been as amiable as Franz' good nature implied. "You're a great girl, Sara. In truth, I'd love to go out with you sometime." And…here came the '_but._' "_Now_ just doesn't seem like the right time, for either of us."

"Why not?" Sara asked, not accusatory, but more concerned. She really wanted his input too. Franz Heimler actually _liked_ her!

"Because things are too chaotic," Franz smiled; looking a little tired, a little more worn, and Sara realized his own little protective wall was coming down too. "I'm still stinging a little right now, I admit it. It won't last forever, but what I need right now is a friend more than a girlfriend and you, well," he chuckled. "You've got enough confusion already don't you?"

"So is that a _no_?" Sara was trying to understand where the heck he was going with all of this.

"It's an '_if the timing ever works out_,'" Franz sighed. "Right now, you obviously have a lot on your plate dealing with Maes Mustang and really, as his closest friend, getting him back on the right track _should_ be your priority. I'd be disappointed in you if it wasn't," he added. "Figure things out there; do what you feel you need to do. I'm not going anywhere and right now, I think we _both_ need a good friend to talk to more than anything else. I want to be there for you the way I have been, and the way you've been here for me. There's no time limit we're living by after all; no rush." He actually reached out a hand across the table and took one of hers, giving it a warm squeeze. "Someday, maybe things will work out differently and we can give it a shot then. Until that time, if it ever comes, can we just agree to stay close and be there for each other? The last thing I ever want to be to you is a problem."

That had to be one of the sweetest things any guy had ever said to her, as bizarre as that seemed. Sara nodded. "Of course, Franz." It was a lot better than what she had feared. Really, it meant that nothing had changed between them, except the wondering and tension were gone. She smiled. "You'll never be a problem to me."

"Oh I don't know about that," Franz teased, chuckling. "But at least it will never be on _purpose._ Though will it be a problem that you're likely going to be late for dinner?"

Sara glanced at the clock; nearly an hour late for dinner_ if_ she hurried! "My family will understand," she replied, though they both stood up to go. "Besides," she chuckled. "I'm not the one they're concerned with most right now."

"Oh?" Franz asked as he held her coat for her to put it back on, always the gentleman! "Is something wrong?"

"Depends on who you are," Sara chuckled as she turned to look at him again. "Aldon and his girlfriend, Cassandra – you might remember her? – well, they got married a few days ago, and they're expecting."

She didn't have to say anything else, Franz's eyes lit with understanding. "I hadn't heard that yet."

"I don't think anyone really knows outside of family," Sara replied. "Please don't say anything okay?"

"Of course not," Franz smiled. "I'm not one to go spreading around other people's business. I'm sure your father will say something to the office eventually.

Oh! "And umm…about what I admitted earlier…" Sara found herself fumbling a little. "Dad doesn't really know about that and-"

"My lips are sealed," Franz promised.

_A shame really_, Sara couldn't help thinking, though for different reasons! He was so close, and she knew now that he liked her at least as much she was interested in him. But given the conversation, it wouldn't have been appropriate. Sara settled for hugging him tightly instead. "Thank you," she said, and she hoped he understood it was for more than that.  
He seemed to. Franz hugged her back. "You're welcome, Belle. And I don't just mean that in the general sense," he chuckled. "You are_ always_ welcome."

"So does that mean I can sit with you at lunch tomorrow?" Sara teased, grinning impishly up at him.

Franz laughed. "Of course! We still have plenty to catch up on after all."

They parted at the door, Franz heading back towards the NCO quarters, and Sara to her apartment. Somehow, despite the fact that she had _technically_ been turned down for the moment, Sara was sure she had never felt more relaxed and sure about where she stood in a relationship with a guy.

**November 26****th****, 1949**

Sara was a little apprehensive about her first meeting with Maes as his superior, at least on this project. What had Kane been thinking? She hoped that Franz was right, and that this might actually be a good thing, but she was skeptical.

Apparently, Maes was also apprehensive. Sara was alone in the office, having arrived early to get back to work, when he walked in – on time, in uniform, and looking completely professional. There wasn't a whiff of alcohol to be smelled either as she looked up at him or as he stood at attention. At least he didn't salute! That might have been a bit much.

"Good morning, Mustang," she said, keeping it professional.

Maes looked a little stung, but hid it quickly. "Good morning," he replied neutrally, then his shoulders dropped every so slightly. "Before anyone else gets here, can we talk?"

Sara sighed. "Sure, Maes. What did you want to say?" _Might as well get this over with. _

Maes hesitated briefly. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry for the other night. I messed up, and I don't really deserve to be forgiven for blasting you like that. I also wanted to thank you for yesterday. You didn't have any reason to cover for me, and you did it anyway even though you have more right to be mad at me than anyone else maybe." He had trouble meeting her eyes as he spoke.

An apology; it was a start, and more than anyone else had gotten out of him lately Sara suspected. "You're right," she replied when he finished. "You really messed up, but it wasn't the other night, Mustang. You've been messing up for a lot longer than that. You're wrong too; I do have a reason to cover your back in this; several actually. The first is that, as pissed as I am at you, I may be the_ only _real friend you have left. Common sense or not, I can't walk out on our friendship. The second reason is that I felt bad for running off last year without even stopping to tell you I didn't have time to talk. Consider it _my_ apology. The third, well, it's new."

She looked at him until he met her eyes again directly. "If you're going to be working with me directly, I'm not going to put up with this crap you've been pulling. You'll be a model officer or you _will_ find yourself recommended for court martial. I don't want to see you ruin your life, and I won't let you drag everyone around you down with you." Her words were harsh, she knew that, but she wanted him to understand where he stood. "You told me a year and a half ago that you _liked_ me. What I should have told you then was that I don't know how I feel, and I'm really not ready to find out. That's still true. But right now, the way you are, I'd be surprised if you could get a date with any _decent_ girl in Central. I'd rather hit you than kiss you, Firebrand. If you even want a chance, you're going to have to prove to me, and everyone else, that this '_new_' you, is _not_ the real Maes Mustang."

Maes was obviously biting his tongue – Sara wouldn't be surprised if it was actually bleeding in his mouth. "So, what do I have to do?" he asked, apparently looking for more specifics.

"A few things," Sara replied, shifting through her paperwork, and then looking up at him again with a steely glint in her blue eyes. "Stop chasing skirts all over Amestris. Sober up; for real. You may find that harder than you think." He was going to do damage to himself if he kept getting drunk every night; in long term health or possibly short term stupidity if he wasn't careful. "You'll report in every morning, on time, inspection-ready."

"All right," Maes nodded after several seconds. He obviously didn't like it, but he looked like he'd been expecting those.

"And you _have_ to apologize to your parents," Sara set down her one other major stipulation.

Maes' face went pale. Sara knew she had found his weak point. However much of an ass he was acting, Maes had always loved his parents dearly, and given how badly he had hurt them recently, she suspected he actually felt extremely guilty about it. "When?" was all he asked.

"In the next week," Sara replied, giving him a little lee-way to figure out how he was going to do it, "But no longer. They've suffered enough already, don't you think?"

Maes swallowed and looked contrite but also ashamed. That was good, Sara thought. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Good," Sara replied. "Now that that's settled," she relaxed and motioned him over. "These are all the records I've been through, and this list," she shoved at him as he stepped in, "is what I need you to go over by the end of today looking for incomplete or non-existent reports."

"Umm, okay." Maes seemed a little surprised at her change of tone.

Sara paused, and looked up, smiling just a little. "Don't sound so unsure, Mustang. Unless you're telling me you're afraid of a little _paperwork_."

"No," Maes snorted and snatched up the sheet. "This will take days!"

"So get to it," Sara smirked. "With both of us on it, it shouldn't take nearly as long. The_ fun_ part will be pulling teeth until we find out if those reports were misfiled, or really don't exist, and getting the rest of the information."

"Thrilling," Maes sighed. "All right; I guess it could be worse." He walked over to the far wall where the cabinets started with the numbers Sara had assigned him.

Sara looked back down at her work as the door opened and a couple of other alchemists walked in, chatting, ready to begin the day. She knew as well as Maes did that it could be a _lot _worse. By all rights, he should probably already be gone. She just hoped it didn't come to that!

**December 2nd, 1949**

Maes stewed all weekend and into the early part of the next week. It was a hard weekend too. He stayed in until he thought it would drive him mad and then tried to go out and _not_ find too good a time. He avoided the bars, using Sara's disappointed or disgusted expressions as fuel to spur his self-control and keep himself from giving in.

For the most part he survived the weekend, though at one point he found himself curled up on his bed in the NCO quarters, about four beers gone just to keep himself from going out and finding one of the girls who he _knew_ would be available and willing that night! Maes felt like a real loser.

Monday had almost been a relief, showing up at work ready to do something that would keep him _distracted._ Sara's attitude the other day had pissed him off, but really he deserved the way she was treating him now. At work, things were pretty much professional, but she wasn't being harsh on him as long as he actually did his job. There were no long-suffering sighs or dirty looks; no lectures. He could handle that. She even smiled sometimes.

Maes had decided that the easiest way to get at his father would be to just go to his office at HQ. It would be a private apology, short and sweet, during work hours when there wasn't time for things to get _too_ uncomfortable. He cut his lunch break short and headed upstairs.

There was one little snag in his plan. General Mustang's door was locked. Maes sighed and headed down the hall to President Breda's offices, a knot forming in his stomach at the idea of stepping in where he was very much sure he was _not_ welcome. Still, he knocked formally before entering. "Excuse me?" he said to the nearest staff member – a Second Lieutenant he didn't recognize. _Must be new._ "Do you know where I can find General Mustang?"

The Lieutenant shook his head. "No, Sir," he noticed Maes' rank of Major and responded accordingly. "You should ask Feury," he motioned to the smaller man, who was sitting at his desk, working as usual. The place was, fortunately, almost empty given the hour. Maes was grateful.

At the sound of his name, Kain Feury looked up and adjusted his glasses, spotting Maes and blinking, startled. "Major," he said by way of greeting. Maes felt hurt, but knew he deserved it. When he was younger, he had always been welcome in these offices.

"I'm looking for my father," Maes spoke again. "But he's not in his office."

"He's not in today," Feury replied with a matter-of-fact shrug. "Called in sick."

"Sick?" _His_ father? Roy Mustang never actually called in unless he couldn't physically get out the door, which usually meant his mother had something to do with it. That also meant it was usually serious.

"That's what Riza said," Feury nodded, "And not to expect him in this week."

And if Mom said it, than he knew his father likely didn't have any say in the matter. Maes swallowed the urge to curse out loud and nodded. "Thank you, Sir."

He returned to their regular offices downstairs and got back to work, trying not to feel frustrated at having his attempt to apologize thwarted, and now he was concerned! Maes almost didn't notice when Sara quit for the day and headed out, but it was his first clue that the day was over. He finished marking off on the list where he had stopped, and headed out.

Maes didn't even bother to change clothes. Perhaps, given the fact he hadn't talked to his parents in, well, _weeks_ he shouldn't make any assumptions about how welcome he might be in his parents' house. He certainly didn't deserve to think of it as _home._

Maes almost ran away twice before finally ringing the doorbell and standing there, waiting. He heard the door unlock, and watched his mother's startled expression as she stared at him standing on the steps. "Maes?" Riza said, almost as if she didn't believe her own eyes.

"Hi, Mom," he said, feeling very self-conscious – a sensation he did _not _enjoy. "Permission to come in?"

He was not prepared for what happened next as his mother grabbed him into one of the fiercest hugs Maes thought he had ever experienced! After a moment's hesitation, he hugged her back. "I was starting to think I might never see you again," she said softly, and he could hear her voice waiver. It was such an un-Riza like characteristic, and for that matter something for her to _say_, that he stepped back a little and looked down at his mother, realizing just how worried she must have been to have _that _kind of reaction.

He couldn't take it. The words just came out. "Mom I …I'm so sorry. Those things I said to you they were out of line, and cruel, and I wanted you to know that I didn't mean it, really I didn't! I was mad and frustrated and confused and none of that's even remotely a good excuse for what I did to you. I messed up big time, I know that but I hurt you and I—"

He was cut off as his mother laid a finger on his mouth and Maes realized that there were tears in his own eyes, not just hers. "Apology accepted," Riza hugged him again. "Come in the house, Maes." The last sounded almost like an order, even with the relieved smile on her face.

"Yes, ma'am," Maes smiled back tentatively and came inside. "I well…I wanted to talk to Dad too, but I tried to find him at work," he shrugged. She knew he hadn't found him.

"He's upstairs," Riza said as he followed her into the living room. "He didn't sleep much at all last night, up coughing, so I wouldn't let him go in this morning. The doctor says it will clear in a few days with rest."

"I'll bet he's mad," Maes chuckled. His father was always a lousy patient, and impatient with illness.

"Furious," Riza nodded. "He'll be glad to see you."

"I'm not so sure of that," Maes sighed, standing; not sure he wanted to sit down either.

"Of _course _he does," his mother rounded on him, her eyes flashing. "No matter what you've done and what you've said, we love you. I had hoped that you _understood _that by now."

"I do now," Maes smiled weakly. "But that doesn't make facing Dad any easier after… everything." He swallowed.

"Well he's not going to charbroil you," Riza sighed, shaking her head. "Go upstairs, Maes. You can take him this," she went into the kitchen and came back with a tray that held a hot cup of tea, honey, lemon, and a bowl of vegetable stew. "Interesting smell," he commented as he sniffed the tea.

"Medicinal," Riza replied. "He won't take it without the honey and lemon."

Maes shook his head and took the tray. "Hopefully I'll be back down in one piece," he said as he headed for the stairs. His mother's acceptance of his apology seemed almost too easy. His father now,_ there_ was the challenge! He knew there was a lot of talking to do with his mother too, but the initial painful part was over. It wasn't as if she didn't know the extent of his sins already.

At the top of the stairs he knocked on his parents' bedroom door. Inside, he heard coughing. "Come in?" His father sounded a little surprised that anyone would bother knocking.

Maes took a deep breath and opened the door.

Roy looked up from the newspaper he was reading, leaning back against the headboard. His eye went even wider than Riza's had and he simply stared for several seconds.

"I umm…brought your dinner," Maes said; anything to break the painfully awkward silence. "Mom told me to bring it up."

The silence stretched out for several more seconds and Maes felt frozen in place, not welcome to enter. It gave him time to feel worse; seeing first hand what Sara had meant last week. His father_ did_ look older. "I didn't know you were here," Roy Mustang said finally, his voice so quiet Maes wasn't sure he'd heard him for a moment.

"I stopped by," Maes replied obviously, then gave up his pride. It wasn't like he deserved to have any right now, right? "I didn't mean to intrude but I wanted to apologize… for a lot of things."

His father looked stunned, and Maes finally dared to enter the room, walking over and putting down the tray. "Have a seat," Roy said, coughing. He grimaced, but he reached for the tea and added a rather liberal amount of lemon and honey and stirred.

Maes pulled up a chair and sat down, waiting and watching while Roy drank the entire cup of tea.

"You can begin now," Roy said after a moment, looking at him evenly.

"Begin?"

"Apologizing."

Maes felt his neck go red. He'd been right; this would be the hard one. "You were right… about everything." He almost had to force the words from his mouth even though he actually meant them. He had been flooded with guilt every day since that night, but he hadn't been able to make himself do this. The worst part was, he knew he wasn't going to get away with a vague apology here. "About why I was being stupid, and not dealing with my problems, and not listening to you. I've been an ass, and a worm. The_ last _thing I wanted was to make Mom cry, or disappoint either of you, and I still managed to do _both_." His father sat there, just listening, giving no outward sign beyond that unreadable mask he used on his officers. It was all Maes could do not to fidget under that steely gaze, made no less fearsome for only coming from one eye! "I'm sitting in the bottom of a hole that I dug on my own. I've alienated most of my friends, and even more of my colleagues. I should have listened, but I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Roy asked simply.

"I was afraid I wasn't good enough," Maes sighed, his hangs wringing where they hung between his legs as he sat there. He watched them, looking anywhere but into his father's face. "That I'd screwed up irrevocably with my best friend, and that maybe…maybe I just would never be good enough; not to meet your expectations or anyone else's." The truth was he'd simply lost his nerve, his self-confidence, and he had wanted to place the blame anywhere else.

"You had already exceeded my expectations."

Maes looked up sharply at the unexpected words.

Roy's expression was sad and resigned. "You could have chosen any vocation, any hobbies, and I would have been proud of you, Maes. I was always proud to have you as a son, and not because you wanted to be an alchemist or a soldier; or because you were well liked. You're my _son_," The fervor with which he emphasized the last word made Maes jump, a little taken aback. "_That _means more to me than anything else. I love you because you're my son. I had hoped… you understood that." He started coughing again.

Past tense; Maes winced. "And now?" he asked when the coughing subsided.

"Now I want my son back."

Maes understood. It wasn't him, sitting here, talking to him that Roy missed, it was Maes, behaving like himself; not acting out, not hiding. He could _be_ insecure, and scared, and even a little foolhardy. The changes already made did not have to be permanent and Maes didn't have to lose everything. "How do I fix things, at least with you?" he asked finally, and wondered if his father's list would be longer and more severe than Sara's.

Roy seemed to take a long time considering that option. Then he smirked. "Put up with me saying '_I told you so_' for the rest of your life, no matter what it's for, and we can consider it a reasonable start."

A joke? His father was joking; or at least, partially. He knew Roy Mustang would hold him to his word on _that _agreement! "Sounds fair," Maes said finally, smiling weakly back. "Does this mean you haven't disowned me yet?"

Roy shook his head. "No. The meeting with our lawyer to change the Will isn't scheduled until next week. I suppose now, I'll have to cancel."

"You will stay for dinner, won't you Maes?" Riza said, and Maes turned to see her standing there with another tray bearing two more bowls of soup. Apparently they'd be picnicking up _here._

"Sure, Mom." Hell, _he_ had tears in his eyes! But this time they were tears of relief and joy. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."


End file.
